Dying is a Delicate Moment
by agarariddle-andhernachos
Summary: "Say it Tom." "Say what ?" "You want power. And there is no shame in wanting it." Tom simply smirked. "If you know that I want power, you must also know that I will not share it." "Who said anything about sharing ?" Hermione bore a mischievous grin. - Stranded in a era that isn't hers with no clue on how to get back, (Time Travel AU / Badass! Hermione)
1. THIS IS WAR

**Dying is a Delicate Moment**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

Thoughts are written in Italics

Big line : New POV

"OoOo" : Same POV / Time lapse

 **CHAPTER ONE : THIS IS WAR**

* * *

02.05.1998

Screams were resonating through the devastated hallways. She could hear the cries of pain, smell flesh and blood. She didn't even know if it was hers. Flashes of colours were cast. Green, red, purple were mixing up for her to witness the most horrid shade she ever saw. If the adrenaline was not pulsing through her veins, her legs would have given away. The next thing she remembered was her skull hitting the cold floor.

All she could hear was a strident noise. She lifted her head, winced from the pain, and looked behind her. Black dust was falling all over the bodies. She thought she was seeing one of the Weasley twin crying and begging for death. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. She crawled on the floor towards him, the windows fragments cutting through her pale skin.

Her entire body was covered in blood, she could not even distinguish the new one from the old. He was laying on his left side, she could not tell if the redness of his hair was due to the Weasley heritage or to the blood flooding from one of his wounds. She took his hand and squeezed it lightly. She was desperately trying to figure out which one of the twin was smiling at her on his last breathing moment.

"Seems like Umbridge was not the worst after all." Hermione chuckled through the tears.

"I think she is still the worst Georgie" He replied dazing off.

It was Fred.

The next moment, the spark Hermione saw during the last seven years in Fred's eye, this glint of mischief, was gone.

A hand grabbed her wrist and lifted her up from the ground. Her legs started running instinctively but her eyes were still focused on the lifeless body of someone she used to call a friend. As she turned her head, she saw the scarred face of her best friend. At this moment, she took the breath she was holding off for the past several seconds. The pressure on her wrist was almost hurting her, but the comfort of knowing Harry was alive and beside her overruned the discomforting feeling. They arrived in a deserted corridor and stopped in front of a flock of paintings.

"Snape. Snape memories. The pensieve" Hermione said rambling

"Dumbledore… He… He fooled me." Harry answered breathlessly.

The look in his eyes, the tightness of his features and the tears on his cheeks sent a shiver down her spine. He grabbed her left arm and she could feel the warm touch of his hand on hers. A loud bang followed by the insane laugh of Bellatrix Lestrange brought her back to reality. She only had the time to push Harry out of the way before a fragment of ceiling fell between them.

"Harry !" She yelled his name as the wall of debris separated them.

She only realised then the grip she had on his glasses. She looked around her to find a way to reach her friend. The only things she could see were dust, bricks and paintings. As she kept screeching for Harry, she heard a chuckling voice behind her. She jumped around and stared at the wall, seeking where the voice came from.

"This way" She heard again, but this time more clearly.

She discerned a painting at the bottom left. A man in his twenties, with plastered black hair, a sneering grin on his face looked right at her. As she approached, she perceived the green robe he was wearing and Hogwarts in the background. Caught between panic and fear, Hermione called one last time Harry's name. The frightful sound resonated throughout the corridor only to fade away a couple of seconds later.

She felt like she could throw up a she heard Harry screaming. Without even thinking she got closed to the painting which just opened for her and hopped in. She found herself running in a long black corridor. She could only hear her steps on the stoned floor and her heart pounding in her chest. As she got close to the end of the passageway, she put her hand in front of her eyes trying to shield herself. She was expected the frame's thin wood of the twin painting but came across a thick double door. She opened it. A bright light blinded her.

She blinked twice, looked around her, and saw the Great Hall in a perfect state.

* * *

02.05.1942 :

Laughs were reverberating in the huge room. The four long tables of each house were covered in food, treats and drinks. At the front of the Great Hall, the professors and the Headmaster were chatting enthusiastically. Large green flags were suspended from the enchanted ceiling. The Slytherin table, at the center right, was cheering their consecutive Quidditch victory for the 11th time.

The large double door of the great hall opened in a loud crack. The students' heads rose up from their plates and they stared at a thin backlit figure. Her black wand was in one hand and the other one held, in a tight fist, a pair of glasses. Her breath was shaky and heavy. Her hair was as dishevelled and bloody, as her clothes. She began walking slowly, as though she was afraid.

An oppressive silence settled in the Hall. The students, as well as the professors, were all staring at her. She seemed like she was about 15 years old. The undernutrition was visible on her features, hollowing her cheeks. Every inch of her skin was covered in dirt, wounds and blood.

"What… Where… How... " She stuttered.

Her blood was dripping on the floor, leaving a sinister print behind her. Her eyes caught Abraxas' one. She froze and started running towards him but slipped on her own blood. Her body hit the floor in a loud thud. The entire assembly gasped at the scene. The Headmaster Dippet rose from his seat ready to intervene.

She gripped Abraxas' sleeve leaving a dark red stain on it while the staff body started moving quickly towards them.

"Malfoy ? The fuck you're doing here" She yelled. "Why aren't you fighting ? Why isn't everyone fighting ?"

"Get away from me you filthy.." Abraxas said

"Enough" Professor Dumbledore interrupted him.

Dippet, followed by all the professors, hurried by her side wands at the ready.

"Albus, tell the HeadBoy and HeadGirl to take the students back to their common room". Professor Merrythought declared.

The girl was about to say something, but as soon as she heard the name Albus she closed her mouth and stared at transfiguration teacher.

"How did you get in ? Did Grindelwald send you ?" Dippet interrogated the skinny girl.

As soon as this name escaped from the headmaster mouth, a wave of panic spread through the hall. The whispers among the students grew louder.

"What … ? No !" She screamed as if she was offended.

She looked down at her hands and saw what she was holding to.

"The glasses… Harry ! I need to give them back to Harry." She mumbled.

Slughorn took a step forward "The glasses ? Are they a portkey ?"

Before she could answer, she fainted.

OoOoOo

"Armando, I can't take care of her. We need to transfer her to St Mungo"

"Not until I've had all the information I need Leonara"

Her head was hurting from the amount of blood she lost. She could not open her eyes, but she could feel the soft linen under her skin. The sour taste in her mouth could only belong to the blood-replenishing potion. It had been months since she had laid on a comfortable bed. She could feel her right side burning as if it was on fire. She bit her lips not to scream. _Adrenaline is a an amazing anaesthesia_ she thought. She tried to recall how she got here. She remembered the Great Hall and a young Albus Dumbledore.

Where was she ? When was she ?

 _What's going on ? How did you end up in a bed ? You haven't been in a bed for ages. It feels good doesn't it ? Not the point. What happened ? Why aren't you hearing screams ? Why aren't you seeing spells being casted ? How come you're not smelling death ?_

Hermione, in spite of the pain, tried to think. To think about how she got in this bed. To think about where she was. To think about the era she was in. She knew for a fact that Armando Dippet was headmaster of Hogwarts in the forties. She tried processing what she had just heard.

 _Focus Hermione. The last thing you can remember for sure is seeing Fred dying. Wait, Fred is dead. Think Hermione, think hard. You ran with Harry, the ceiling, Bellatrix's laugh, the painting. Yes ! The painting ! You went through the painting, you ran for several minutes then… Then what ? A door ? Yes, a door ! And the Great Hall. Slytherin flags all over the room. A banquet. They were eating. How could they eat ? How could they sit in the hall and eat ?_

 _They couldn't. They couldn't because it wasn't them. It wasn't Malfoy. It wasn't him. But the features of his face, how could it not be him ? The blond almost white hair, the grey eyes, the pointy chin. Wait, he didn't have grey eyes. That's a Black trait. It's Draco's trait. Then… Lucius ? No… Abraxas ? The pain in her entire body, the cruciatus curse, the painting hanging at the Malfoy manor. It was him. It was Abraxas Malfoy. Hermione, you can't say a thing. Not until it's coherent. Not until you have a backstory._

"What's the date ?" She asked quietly.

"What's that dear ?" A sweet woman voice answered.

"What's the date ?" Hermione repeated louder this time.

"The second of may."

"The full date."

"The second of May of 1942" she replied, kindly.

She choked.

 _The second of May of 1942. 1942. How ? McGonagall always taught you no one could be sent back in time that far. How come ? What are you going to do ?_

If she were alone, she would have probably cried. She was terrified. She was stranded in an era that wasn't hers with absolutely no idea on how she would come back to 1998.

 _That bloody painting ! That must be it. Think. Think Hermione. What happened in 1942 ? Second world war in the muggle world. What happened in the wizarding world ? Grindelwald ! He tried to invade Great Britain, but didn't succeed because of his fear and affection for Professor Dumbledore ! He couldn't get into the United Kingdom. But he went to France. France ?_

 _Beauxbatons ! Second of may 1942 ? The final attack on the Beauxbatons academy ! More than one hundred people died that day. Today. Could it be ? Could it be that simple ? Could it be your backstory Hermione ?_

"How are you feeling ?" The same soft voice asked her.

Hermione opened her eyes, and saw the infirmary basked in a soft light. Headmaster Dippet got close to her bed.

"Can I ask her questions Miss Asphodela ?" He asked.

She nodded. "Take it easy dear, I am right here if you need anything" She added to Hermione.

"How did you manage to get into the castle Miss ?"Armando Dippet demanded.

"Portkey…" She simply replied.

"You had a portkey ? Where is it ? How did you get one ?"

Hermione's head was hurting even more with the interrogation. Her heart was beating faster as she was afraid the headmaster would detect her lies. She heard footsteps and whispers coming from the other side of the room.

"The glasses. They are the portkey." Hermione said in a cold voice staring at the Headmaster, remembering what professor Slughorn had assumed.

"Where are you from ?"

"Beauxbatons sir."

Dippet's eyes opened wide.

All of a sudden, the curtain around her bed flew open.

"Armando…" The nurse's voice revealed her worry.

The old man turn aside and looked at her.

Hermione could see, behind the two, one boy standing straight, staring at her. He was tall and thin. Hermione blinked a few times in order to get a clearer vision. Her eyes laid on his face. His features were almost aristocratic, his eyes were so dark that she felt as if they were piercing through her soul. His hair, coal black, was slightly curled but perfectly styled. Another boy was laying on a bed beside him. He looked panicked, his breathing was unsteady and pearls of sweats were rolling down his forehead.

"What is your name ?" The headmaster asked her.

She did not know what to answer. She was still gawking at the two boys. The pain in her left side intensified with every breath she took.

"Miss ? Miss ?" He repeated.

The nurse got close to the boys and put her hand on the sick one's forehead.

"You can leave us now, Mister Riddle" She said.

Her heart stopped. Hermione could not breathe anymore. Her hands were clenching the sheet below her. Everything stopped for a couple of seconds. Everything stilled. Her vision blurred. Then, darkness.

OoOoOo

"I've never seen something like that Terence. Have you seen her ? Have you seen her arm, her scars ? No human could do something like that". Someone whispered at the back of her room.

His posture. His face. His eyes. He was so far from what she remembered Voldemort in her own timeline, yet so similar.

 _Riddle. How could you have not thought about it before Hermione ? He was here. Of course he was here. It was 1942. It was 1942 !_

For the very first time Hermione understood what it meant. A wave of panic spread throughout her body.

 _Harry ? Ron ? They're gone. I am gone. Everything is gone. You are alone and stranded in a time you only know about thanks to books. You are not only stuck in a different timeline, but you are stuck in his._

Hermione tried not to cry.

 _He asked for your name. Dippet wanted to know your name._

Hermione tried to find, in the back of her brain, any french name that could match the situation. She found none. She opened slightly her eye, enough to see but not enough to be seen.

"Do you have any news about the Beauxbatons academy ? What about the Hortenses' ?" Another voice asked.

"I am so sorry Terence. I know you were friends with Professor Hortense and his wife…"

"They're… They're dead?" His voice was shaky.

The silence following the question answered every interrogations.

"And Grace ?" He continued

"Grace ?"

"Grace Hortense, their daughter. She was a student there. 4th year if I recall correctly".

"I haven't heard anything about her yet, but don't get your hopes high Terence, it is a massacre over there".

The door opened and one person left. She heard the nurse sight loudly. Hermione opened her eyes a little bit more. She saw a woman standing, her back at her, by the door. The latter opened quietly.

"How is she ?"

The nurse turned her head to face the newcomer.

"I hope she will be fine. We gave her everything we could for the moment, but it will take time for her to get better. Her right side is still in an alarming state."

"And how are you Lisbeth ?"

The nurse did not answer immediately.

"Have you heard anything about a Grace Hortense? She was at Beauxbatons," Lisbeth asked

Another silence. As heavy as the one before regarding the Hortenses'.

"Where is the body?" Lisbeth continued.

"We are not quite sure if she is really dead. As far as I know there is no survivor at the moment. But we won't be absolutely sure until tomorrow morning."

 _The Hortenses' ? Like the transfiguration professor ? What was his name ? Theodorus ! Theodorus Hortense, dead in 1942 along with his wife, Beatrice, muggle studies professor. What about their daughter ? Think Hermione ! Fuck, you don't remember them having a daughter don't you ? What's the point of reading that much ancient newspapers if not to remember important information !_

 _Focus Hermione. There was nothing about their daughter. You actually never read something on her. Maybe they never found a body. Maybe you could use that in your favour. You need to go to Beauxbatons. You need to go there tonight. But how ? You can't apparate that far ! Think._

Hermione waited in the darkness for hours for anyone walking in the hallways of St Mungo to leave. She knew what she had to do.

OoOoOo

Her footsteps were resonating on the marble floor. She got a quick glance at her look as she passed by a mirror. The image of her, in Bellatrix's body, sent a shiver down her spine. She had remembered the polyjuice potion and one of the witch's hair in her purse. She approached the floo system.

"Excuse me ! Excuse me !" She heard behind her.

She turned around. A small fat man was running towards her.

"What are you doing ? How did you get in the Ministry ?" He asked.

"I need to go to Beauxbatons" Hermione replied in a french accent.

"You can't go without an authorization…"

"I am a French Auror, I can do whatever the fuck I want ! Aren't you aware of what's going on over there ? They need me !"

The small man seemed scared. Even Hermione was surprised by the tone she used. She turned to face the chimney, took a full grip of floo powder, stepped inside and said "Académie Beauxbatons".

She arrived in a small room. The night was already dark and she could not see a thing. She cast a _lumos_ and looked around her. The room, surprisingly, was not in too bad of a shape. Hermione tried remembering what professor Binns had taught them about the Beauxbatons siege. The students had been under Grindelwald control for months, suffering from lack of food, before the final attack.

She opened the door and found herself in an empty corridor. She rose her wand to light up the path and stayed where she was. She couldn't move a muscle. Without even realising, tears were rolling down her cheeks. She had never seen such a massacre. She turned her head to the right. She saw piles of corpses lying. She could not differentiate the limbs. The blood, emanating from the cadavers, had started drying and emitted an acrid smell.

The only thing she could see, smell and focus on, was death. The horrid death of hundred of people, children. As she started moving, a hand on her hip to press on the pain from her right side, her legs began to shake lightly. She put one of her other hand in front of her nose and mouth. She could not bear the smell of exposed flesh any longer. If she could close her eyes and keep moving she would. She turned into another hallway, the debris of wall were spread on the floor.

As she lowered her wand, something caught the light and dazzled her. She moved her source of light and bent over. A frame was laid on the floor. She took it in her right hand. The glass above the picture was broken. She blew on it to remove the dust. She saw a girl, about 15 years-old with chestnut hair and green eyes, a smile on her face. "Grace Icaria Hortense, Club de Métamorphose, Vice-Presidente".

Hermione eyes flew open. Here she was. The solution was in front of her eyes.

She looked around her, wanted to find Grace. Or at least Grace's body. She started running in the corridors, pointing her wand towards each body that was on her way. Then she found his.

Theodorus Hortense. Both of his legs were broken, and blood was escaping from his mouth. Hermione turned away from the body and took a deep breath. She was about to throw up. She moved away, her right hand was holding the wall. She sobbed. She wiped away the tears. She saw a hand with a signet ring underneath a pile of corpses. She was intrigued and crouched down to get closer. She held her wand tightly, and casted a _levicorpus_ to move the students' lifeless bodies. And she saw her. Her eyes were closed and Hermione could not see if they were green, but she knew deep inside of her that Grace Hortense was the remains in front of her.

OoOoOo

Hermione was shaking. The fire's heat couldn't even warm her.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" She repeated to herself between two sobs.

She did not only burn Grace's body that night, but also the tiny part of innocence she thought she still had. As she watched the real Grace disappear in ashes before her eyes, she took a deep breath, put the ring on and rehearsed her speech in her head.

"My name is Grace Icaria Hortense."


	2. WELCOME HOME

" **Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

 _And he kills her._

Thougts are written in Italics

Big line : New POV

"OoOoOo" : Same POV / Time lapse

 **CHAPTER TWO : WELCOME HOME**

* * *

 _Song : Welcome Home by Radical Face_

16.07.1942 :

He never really liked reading _The Daily Prophet_. He did it because he had to, but never enjoyed it. Today was no exception. With one elbow on the window, he was staring at the paper in front of him.

" **Still quiet ?"**

 **It's been more than two months since the attack on the BeauxBatons Academy, yet still not a word from the only survivor : Grace Icaria Hortense.**

 **As we visited her home in France, we saw the proof of her existence surrounded by love and friendship. Pictures of her and her parents. Her wild chestnut hair, her dark brown eyes and a grin plastered on her face. Following the steps of her parents, Grace excelled at the Academy in particular at Potions, she was late professor Antoinette Lebon's favorite. But also at Transfiguration as she was the Vice-President of the prestigious "Association de Métamorphose" (Transfiguration Club).**

 **How come the talented witch had not said a word yet ?**

 **To read the full article, turn to page 23.**

He did not need to read more. He carefully folded the newspaper and put it in the first drawer of his desk on top of others, all displaying Grace's face on the cover.

 _She was everywhere_ , he thought.

 _It has been months, how come the newspapers are still talking about her ? She did nothing out of the extraordinary. There is no glory in surviving._

 _How come she is the only survivor ? How come she survived at all ? I have heard things about what happened at the Academy. It is merely impossible a 4th year would have escaped._

 _The level of dark magic detected was above everything Aurors had seen before._

 _She had scars, she was covered in blood. She must have fought. She does not have the capacities to duel with experimented dark wizards. Getting good grades in potions and transfiguration does not help in a real war. It merely helps at all._

He exhaled loudly. The more he thought about the situation, the more laughable it became. There was no way she could have survived all by herself. He saw her, he saw how fragile she seemed. Something was not right, he felt it. He looked outside the window and stared at the boys playing in the playground.

"Pathetic" he judged.

 _She knew Malfoy though. He told me he did not know how she knew him. He is not smart enough to lie properly, so I believe him on this one. She asked him why he was not fighting. Is there a Malfoy at the Beauxbatons Academy ? Probably knowing this family, but even if there was one in France, he would not have fought, cowardice runs in their veins._

OoOoOo

24.07.1942 :

Summer 1942 in London was suffocating. Whether it was sunny or cloudy, the heat was dreadful. Wool Orphanage was no exception. Mrs. Cole was urging the boys to stay in the shade and hydrated. Tom was sat under a willow, staring at the boys playing football near the pond. He heard the stern voice of the director calling him "Riddle ! Special mail for you !". He rose up and walked towards her. She handed him a beige envelope.

From the moment she said the word "special" he knew it was from Hogwarts. She always had undermined the school, from the moment Dumbledore had walked through her walls.

Tom could not care less about what she thought.

As he took what was his, he heard the other orphanage residents laughing at him. He opened the letter and skimmed through the content. _5th Year Prefect_ was written at the bottom of it. He rose an eyebrow and smiled lightly, unimpressed.

Mrs. Cole called all the boys to dinner.

"Oh you've received special mail from your special school because you are so special Tom". He heard a boy named Grant say behind him.

Tom's blood boiled in his veins. He slowed down to walk at the same pace as Grant. While everyone turned left heading toward the dining hall, Tom shoved Grant to the right, in an empty room.

"What the…"

Tom slammed the door and moved forward him, an evil grin plastered on his angelic face.

* * *

11.08.1942 :

"Grace broke her left wrist on the 3rd of February when she was eight". Hermione whispered, while being sat at the counter of the Leaky Cauldron.

She looked down at her flashcards and sighed angrily.

"Shoot ! No… _Merde_ !"

She dropped, exasperated, the cards she was holding on the table. On one of them was written, in her perfect calligraphy : _Broke her left ankle on the 03.02 (8y/o)_

 _Seriously, is someone really going to ask you if you broke your bloody left ankle ?_

She had been working on her background story for months. After that night, she knew she would have to handle more. She went to the Hortense's house, she erased every memory of Grace, every pictures of her, every proof of her existence.

A simple spell, thankfully created in the 60's, had allowed her to replace Grace's face by her own in every frame. She took the time to search for all necessary documents she may need : medical records, correspondences, bank statements, Hortense's family books, photo albums and other belongings.

"Miss Hortense ? Have you taken your medicine tonight?"

Hermione was startled and rose her head, almost ready to take out her wand. As soon as she saw Tom's face, the Leaky Cauldron's bartender, she eased up a little.

"Tom, how many times have I told you to call me Grace ?" She answered with a light smile on her face, while scanning the room.

It had been hard at first to use the name Grace, but it became simpler over time. Still did not felt right tough.

She covered the flashcard with her left arm. Tom's gaze flew over her scar.

It was not only the "mudblood" scar he was looking at, but also the deep scratches on it. At first, Hermione had not wanted to cover her scar with magic. She just wanted it gone. So, she had tried to erase it by herself. Muggle way. Nails and blood.

The first month she bled. Her nails dug so deep in her skin that the floor beneath her turned red. But she realised it did not erased the word, so she hid it. Underneath long sleeves. In June, she used magic, she thought it could disappear with a flick of a wand. It did. For a day. Then she had to cast it again.

So, the third month, she stopped trying. She left it there. And every time she looked at it, she saw her face. But, at least, it reminded her of her future, her fight, her goal.

"I'm fine Tom. You don't need to worry about me."

 _You'll worry enough in the future._

The French Ministry had suggested her to stay in the country and to pay for any expenses. Hermione kindly refused as she needed to stay in England to execute The Plan.

"I will always worry about you Grace" He smiled kindly at her. "By the way, you've received mail".

He reached for the letter behind the bar and handed it to her. As soon as she saw the beige envelope and the red seal, a warm feeling spread through her body. She opened it. The excitement, the one she felt when she was eleven years old while opening the same envelope, rose in her chest.

She knew it was going to be different, harder, but knowing she would be back at Hogwarts, even for a short while, comforted her.

If she followed _The Plan_.

It would be _okay_.

She was not expecting more than the formal letter of admission, but found a second one. She recognised Professor Slughorn's handwriting. She chuckled.

 _Seems like_ _Step 1_ _will be easier than expected._

OoOoOo

15.08.1942 :

" _Excusez-moi !_ Hm..Sorry. Do you still have Hogwarts' fifth year potions book ?" Hermione asked the bookstore clerk at Flourish & Blotts.

"Name of the book" He answered rudely.

She opened her bag to reach for the letter.

 _You should really organise this mess, Hermione._

"Well ?" He asked impatiently

"OWLS Level Potions Making by Billius Asphat" a male's voice answered for her.

She turned around. Was standing in front of her, a 15 years old boy. His olive skin matched perfectly his green eyes. His brown hair was a little dishevelled.

"Thanks" She said.

"You must be Grace" He answered.

 _Ok Hermione, it's time. You've learned your story, you know everything you need to know about Grace. He is not going to ask questions about your supposedly broken ankle. And even if he does, you know the right answer now, right ? Left ankle, left ankle, left ankle. Ok, you've got it. Everything is going to be fine._

"Still quiet ?"

 _Left ankle, left ankle, left ankle_

"Sorry, I tried to be funny." He rambled. "You know the article…"

"Left ankle" She answered.

"What ?" He smiled

 _Good Job Hermione. You really killed it._

"What?" She parroted.

"Let's start over." He chuckled. "I am Thorus…"

 _Nott ?_

"Nott" He added. "I'm hurt you did not recognise me as you did Abraxas".

Hermione mouth opened slightly, agape.

"Too soon ?"

 _Theodore's father ? Grandfather ? No, father._

Hermione knew for sure that the Notts were to become one of the most important Death Eater family in the years to come. From the moment she got her acceptance letter, she was aware she would have to interact with soon-to-be Death Eaters. Still, she was not pleased by that. But the young boy in front of her made her feel oddly at ease.

"...trauma ?"

" _Comment_ ?" She finally said.

 _Pay attention Hermione !_

"Oh ! You speak only French. Well that explains a lot…" He spoke quietly to himself.

He exhaled and kept going :

"Je s'appelle Thorus Nott, ma français pas être good"

"Aren't all purebloods supposed to be fluent in French ?" She said.

"So you do speak english !"

A smile spread on his face. There was no doubt he was Theo's father. They had the same smile, a genuine one. Hermione started remembering the Slytherin. They had never been friends, but Theo was bearable, compared to whole lot he hung out with.

They had Arithmancy together since third year. He was smart, brilliant even. Sharing a classroom with Slytherin was always difficult, but Theo never spoke badly of her, at least not when she was here.

Thorus smile did not disappear.

"So it is because of the trauma you weren't speaking"

She did not answered. She looked at him strangely.

"Too soon." He finished, nodding his head a little.

The shop assistant reappeared and gave Hermione the book she was looking for. She opened her mouth to ask for another one, but he turned his back at her and walked away. She heard Thorus laughing quietly.

"Seems like you are missing the Transfiguration Book". Thorus said.

"How do you know ?" She snapped "Have you been following me?"

He laughed hard.

 _Theo definitely got his attitude from his father._

It warmed her heart to find something from her future in the past.

"Come on Grace, you have the books for the entire curriculum in your arms. Anyone with eyes, a functioning brain and deductive skills could have noticed you are missing one".

 _Hermione, it is not war anymore. Or not yet. Snap out of it._

He reached for the book from the shelf behind her.

"So you are going to Hogwarts."

"Use your deductive skills, Sherlock" She answered.

"Sherlock ?" He seemed lost.

"It is a literary reference. You know books. Paper, Ink…" She said ironically.

She fake smiled at him and walked toward the checkout. She put down her books and looked in her purse for money.

"2 galleons and 5 sickles". He said dryly, without even look at her.

 _Quite cheap comparing to the nineties. If only you could be Hermione for just a second. The librarian deserves to be reminded of the "3P" : Punctuality, Patience and Politeness._

As she handed the money, she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Thorus behind her.

"So, you are following me!" She said as she turned around to face him.

He only smiled. He put the book he had in his hand on top of her pile.

"This one is on me". He said to the cashier.

He put 2 galleons on the counter.

"Keep the change". He added.

He took the entire pile of books and headed toward the exit. Hermione followed him rapidly.

"I can carry my own books !" She told him once they were in Diagon Alley.

"A gentleman never lets a young woman carry heavy books."

She huffed.

"Where to next ?" He said looking right at her.

"I need a wand".

He stopped walking and observed her silhouette. She was wearing a white blouse, tucked into a thick smooth dragon leather navy blue pant. Her wild hair was mostly hidden underneath a light gray felt capeline hat. She had a firm grip on a small purse which was over her shoulder. A black curved wand was tucked into her holster on her left forearm. He looked confused at the wand.

"Another wand" she added rashly.

He nodded and they resumed walking. He told her she needed to go to Ollivander.

As she walked, she looked around her while playing with her ring. Diagon Alley was the same as she remembered before her sixth year. Florean Fortescue was here. His shop was open, and people were chatting while being sat on his terrace. As she looked at the store, she remembered the ashes, the dark mark and the loss of her innocence.

The last time she had been there, she had felt sick. Everything had been grey, sad, and lifeless. The few ones, brave enough to get out, had been walking fast, eager to get home.

It was probably the first time since she arrived in 1942 that she was happy to get somewhere. She knew she could get an ice cream, get a part of her childhood back.

Thorus glanced at her and realised she went through hell and back. He knew, from the way she was analysing every movement, every sound, from the way she walked, on the ball of her feet, he knew she would never feel safe.

They arrived in front of the shop.

"Thank you. I can handle it from here". She said while taking her books back.

"Fancy a bite after your purchase ?" He asked.

"I am not really hungry".

He looked at her, top to bottom.

"Even if you are not hungry, you should probably eat something." He told her amused.

"And you call yourself a gentleman." She scoffed.

She entered the shop and briefly looked back. He was gone.

 _Step 2_ _: In process_

* * *

28.08.1942 :

Someone bumped into him. He heard the sound of books hitting the ground. He saw a young wizard, about 11 years old, crouching down to gather his belongings. Tom would have not helped him if it was not for his image. He grabbed two books, and handed them over to the boy.

"I am so so sorry". The young boy stuttered.

 _You better be._

"Don't worry about it. It happens. But be careful next time. You might bump into the wrong person." Tom replied, a fake smile on his face.

"Oh, you're a student at Hogwarts ?"

The boy was admiring the green prefect badge Tom was wearing on his pristine shirt.

"You're in Slytherin. I hope I will be sorted in it". He continued wishfully.

"Everything is possible if you really want it".

 _You are so going to be a Hufflepuff._

Tom took off before the kid could even mutter another word. He headed toward the apothecary to get his potion supplies. He stopped in front of the shop.

 _Do I really need ingredients ? No._

 _Slughorn is going to give me everything I need. It is too easy to fool a naive professor just by playing the orphan card._

An old witch opened the door to the tearoom next door to get out. A recognisable giggle escaped from it. Tom turned his head and saw through the window his potion professor laughing like a schoolgirl. He got closer to discern who he was laughing with. After seeing her on the covers of every newspapers this past few months, he automatically recognised her.

 _What.. ?_

Slughorn was laughing so hard, it made the table move from his huge belly. The porcelain sugar bowl began falling, but the waitress quickly reacted and stopped it using magic. She threw him a knowing glance and he winked at her. Tom's gaze fell on her.

 _Bloody Hortense. What is she doing with him ? Do they know each other ? It looks like it. Does it mean she is going to Hogwarts ? Does it mean she will be a fifth year ? Why have I not thought about it before ? In which house will she be sorted into ?_

The time, on the clock in the tearoom, brought him back from his thoughts. He was late. The orphanage's curfew forced him to go back.

* * *

28.08.1942 :

"Of course, I would love to take you as my apprentice". He said between two sips. "Could you remind me the grade you've gotten at your OWLS potions? Oh no, you've gotten an Outstanding right ? Of course you did. And you have taken it a year early ! It is impressive. Aren't you the one who taught the examiner a new use for Asphodel ? Marvelous ! I would have loved being there…"

 _Does he ever shut up ?_

"...Would you like to?"

Hermione felt his gaze on her. She rose her head and stopped playing with her ring.

 _What ? You should really start listening to what people are saying Hermione._

"Of course, I would love to". She answered quickly.

 _What the fuck did you just agreed to ?_

He smiled and looked at the clock behind him.

"Oh sorry dear ! I did not realise it was so late. As they say, time flies when you're in good company !" He winked. "I have an appointment with the Head of Law and Enforcement. Did you know he cheated on his wife ? You didn't learn it from me."

He winked. Again.

 _Still a gossip I see._

They rose from their seats and headed out. As she closed the door behind her, she heard the loud voice of Slughorn. "Milton, how are you doing my boy ? Have you put on some weight ? Is Tom with you ? It is such a beautiful day to be shopping !"

"No sir, he had to head back..."

Hermione turned around and saw seven figures. One of them, was stepping forward while talking to Slughorn. He had long black curly hair covering his eyes.

"How tragic !" Slughorn cut him.

The six boys snickered behind Milton. The latter turned around and muttered "I did not gain weight, it's muscle. I've told you already !"

"You wish". One of them replied laughing.

Hermione recognised the blond - almost white - hair and the pointy chin.

"Grace, my dear, let me introduce you. Those are the finest boys in my house. Oh, didn't I tell you ? I am the head of Slytherin !" Slughorn told her.

 _Only about a million times._

She stepped forward and saw Thorus.

"Hello again Miss Hortense" Thorus said while bowing.

"You already know each other ?" Slughorn smiled. "How marvelous !"

"We met briefly a couple of days ago" He answered.

"He has already met her ?" Milton asked quietly.

"Let be briefly introduce you." Slughorn told Hermione. "Apparently, you already know Thorus, really good at transfiguration that boy. This is Abraxas, you know the Malfoy family, don't you ? They have a lot of relatives in France. How tragic what happened there."

He sent her an honest apologising look.

"Here are Edmund Rosier and Edgard Lestrange" He continued. "Both on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Thanks to them, we've won again this year. Isodor Avery, oh come on Avery, don't be shy, he is really good at Arithmancy. Maybe you know Antonin Dolohov, he has family in France, he is really creative with spells..."

 _Oh don't you know Hermione. You have a proof of his creativity all over your chest. Nice to see you again. Looking forward to knowing you better Antonin._

"... And this is Milton".

She got closer confidently, a smile plastered on her face.

 _It's time Hermione._ _Step 2_ _: Done._

"Grace Hortense, _enchantée_ "

OoOoOo

01.09.1942 :

Hermione was playing with her wand nervously. The light acacia wood, stranded with thin golden brown filaments, was spinning in her hand. She remembered clearly her visit at Ollivander :

"How peculiar ! Fifteen and a half inches, acacia wood, rigid and phoenix core. Interesting combination." She recalled him saying.

The last first year sat down at the Hufflepuff table.

She turned her head towards it, expecting to see Hannah Abbott's almost red hair.

"Grace Hortense" She heard Dumbledore say.

She approached slowly. Every step she took reminded her of the time she had spent walking in the great hall. She could hear, in her head, the voice of Ron whining about Malfoy. She could feel Harry's arm on her shoulder. She could see Ginny's bright hair sitting at the Gryffindor table. She stopped thinking because she knew it would break her even more.

She sat on the stool. A young Albus Dumbledore put the Sorting Hat on her head.

"What do you want me to call you ? Grace or Hermione ?"

She gasped. She then noticed the entire room staring at her.

"Ombrelune or Gryffindor ? You don't need to answer. I know who you truly are."

Hermione was repeating the house she wanted in her head.

"Why so eager ? There _never_ was another possibility."

* * *

01.09.1942 :

"Slytherin !"

The entire table applauded.

 _Of course she is in Slytherin._

Tom looked around him and saw his entire house clapping eagerly. The girls from fifth year were already scooching over to save Grace a sit. She was walking towards the table, full of confidence and a smug smile smeared on her face. Instead of sitting next to the girls, she got closer to him. She stayed still in front of the boys for a couple of seconds, while they moved to let her sit. She settled next to Milton who was across from Tom.

"Told you, you'd be sorted into Slytherin Gracie" Mitlon smiled at her.

 _Gracie ?_

"Fuck me" Isodor said to himself loudly.

"Hand over the money Avery. I'm so getting this new broom." Edmund Rosier chuckled.

Isodor rose from his seat and gave Rosier 10 galleons.

 _What is happening ?_

"So you really had the guts to get into the snake pit". Abraxas spat at Grace.

"No shit Sherlock". Thorus, sitting next to Tom and in front of Grace, smirked.

 _He knows Sherlock ? Since when does he know muggle literature ?_

"So you've read it" Grace replied impressed.

"You know, books, paper, ink…"

Tom turned to face Thorus and clearly saw him winking at her.

 _What the bloody hell is happening here ?_

The food appeared on the table and people started helping themselves. Mulciber was gathering a large amount of mashed potatoes on his plate.

"Be careful Milton, or Slughorn will call you fat again". Abraxas laughed.

"Come on Malfoy, you know it isn't fat, but only muscles. He has already told us." Grace replied amused.

 _Us ?!_

The boys started talking to one another and joking with Grace altogether.

 _What do they think they are doing ?_

"I do not think we have met before". Tom said slowly and distinctly.

A heavy silence settled upon the fifth years.

* * *

01.09.1942 :

 _Game on Riddle._

* * *

 **Author's note : Hi everyone, this is chapter two of DDM. It is about to get angsty guys ! Btw, you're in for the long run !**

 **As Numerobis once said : "C'est du bon palais, bien sûr il faut imaginer. »**


	3. YOU ARE A MEMORY

" **Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

Thougts are written in Italics

Big line : New POV

"OoOoOo" : Same POV / Time lapse

 **CHAPTER THREE : YOU ARE A MEMORY**

* * *

 _Song : You are a memory by Message To Bears_

02.09.1942 :

"Mister Mulciber, funny seeing you here. I thought you would have not taken Divination again, after what happened last year". Professor Stalling said.

The entire room chuckled while Milton dropped in the sit next to Hermione, his face red from embarrassment.

"I checked the wrong box on the application". He murmured to Hermione.

A real laugh escaped her lips and Milton smiled at her proudly, realising it was the first time he saw her laughing. He was quite short for his age and had broad shoulders, which gave him an odd look. His brown hair was falling in his eyes, once again, and Hermione could see sympathy in them. He seemed normal. Too normal.

Students were fetching for their summer homework to give to the professor. As the teacher approached Hermione's desk, Milton handed over his parchment. Hermione felt uncomfortable not being able to submit anything.

"Don't worry dear". Stalling smiled. "Welcome to Hogwarts, I hope the Slytherin house gave you a warm welcome last night".

 _If by warm welcome you mean a first encounter with the man who will try to kill all of my friends in 50 years, yes sure._

"I headed to bed early, I was tired". She replied honestly.

The professor gave her a nod and went back to her desk. "Open your book to page 23. We will begin this year with dream analysis".

* * *

02.09.1942 :

Tom was behind his cauldron, alone as usual, as the number of students was odd. Grace arrived in the classroom and looked briefly around her, searching for a place to sit.

"Grace, my dear !" Slughorn said to her. "I have set up a spot for you here".

He showed her to a small desk at the front of the class, in front of all the students. She followed him. Tom stared at the two, out of reach to hear what they were saying.

"She had already passed her OWLS in potions". He heard Thorus say behind him.

He turned around and faced him.

 _I have almost forgotten about that._

"Sit down please. I am really happy to see some of you today" Slughorn winked at Tom. "Let's begin, shall we ? Open your book to page 54. You will brew a blood-replenishing potion. Really useful in case of a blood loss."

Everyone started moving around to fetch for their ingredients. Tom was already bored. He stood up and went over to Slughorn's desk.

"Excuse me sir…" Tom started.

"Tom ! How marvellous to see you ! Have you had a great summer ?" Slughorn cut him.

"Yes sir, I hope you had a great one too. Actually, I did not have the time to pick up my ingredients this summer…"

"Don't worry Tom, I have enough for you in the backroom. Go help yourself."

Tom faked a smile and went through a little door behind his potions professor. He gathered many ingredients, among them fairy wings, valerian roots and rose petals and headed back to his potion desk.

 _Why giving us such a boring potion to make ?_

Behind him, Abraxas and Thorus were struggling to make the potion turn red.

"Have you put the silverweed yet" ? He heard Thorus ask.

"Yes I did" The blond one answered.

"Then why is it purple ?"

"Because apparently you don't know how to stir properly."

 _Idiots. You only have to pour three branches of silverweed then stir 4 times clockwise and let it simmers._

"Well done Miss Black". Slughorn said at the back of the room.

 _Walburga had always been a great competitor in potions. But it is too easy to do it in duet. Try doing it alone Black, and we will see._

After an hour and a half Tom finished his potion. Slughorn approached him and checked his work.

"Marvellous Tom ! Perfect potion as always !" The large professor said loudly for everyone to hear. "And in just an hour and a half !"

Tom faked another smile.

"It is easy to make a good potion when you have a great professor".

"You are going to make me blush Tom !"

Slughorn kept laughing while going around the room. Tom started gathering his belongings ready to exit the room, but an intriguing comment from his professor stopped him in his track.

"What a strange colour !"

Tom rose his head and saw Slughorn bent over Grace's cauldron. He smirked.

 _Not so great after all it seems._

Tom's gaze was now stuck on Grace, watching her every move.

"Do not worry professor, give me ten minutes." She smiled knowingly.

 _This smile. I have already seen it last night at dinner when I told her. She looked me in the eyes, as if she knew it. As if she knew my name._

 _The next second, it disappeared. The smile was gone. And she introduced herself._

Tom still kept his eyes on her and wondered what she was doing.

 _You should cut the wings, not slice them. Don't you know how to follow instructions ? You are going to ruin the potion. Are not you supposed to have passed your OWLS already ? Look at that, the mighty Grace Hortense messing up the easiest potion of the year._

Tom was eager to see the disappointment on Slughorn's face.

 _Let's sum up your mistakes Hortense. You have put the rose petals too early, you have turned to potion counterclockwise, you have added a black swan feather and you have poured a blue liquid. What was it ? Does not matter, it was not on the ingredient list. Even Slughorn said that the colour did not match and…_

"How marvellous ! Marvellous..."

The loud compliments brought him back from his thoughts.

"... Everyone ! Approach please."

Slughorn had never said that before. Tom stood up and took a few steps. The colour was perfect. The texture seemed even better than any blood-replenishing potions he had ever seen.

 _How is it possible ? She did not follow the instructions._

Tom stared at her desk. It was messy, contrasting with the young witch sitting behind it. Tom really looked at her for the first time. She could have been pretty if she was not so skinny, her eyes seemed too big for her face, and their colour, once surely warm, had now faded. Her cheeks were hollow even after three months in England with an unlimited supply of food.

Her Slytherin robe was clearly too big for her and Tom wondered why she did not conjure it to fit her perfectly. Then, he saw one scar. The one on her neck, long, thin and silvery. From afar, it almost looked like a choker, but from where he was standing now, there was no doubt about what it was.

 _In a war, you can get scarred._

Her potion book was open and caught his attention. She had crossed-out half of the instructions and replaced it with her own writing.

 _Did she change the potion ? That is not OWLS level. You can be good, but not that good._

 _And I know for sure you are not that good._

"You really are outstanding". Slughorn giggled. "I'll bring it to Leonara !".

The class was dismissed, but the professor called Tom and Grace to the front of the room.

"Grace, my dear, this is the student I was talking about. You agreed to teach him a few tricks in potion…"

A knock on the door interrupted him. A young student, timidly told the professor that Headmaster Dippet wanted to see him.

"Excuse me. And congratulations Grace on your first potions, you were really impressive !" Slughorn said before exiting the classroom, leaving Grace and Tom alone.

* * *

02.09.1942 :

"Excuse me. And congratulations Grace on your first potion, you were really impressive !" Slughorn said before exiting the classroom, leaving Grace and Tom alone.

 _Step 3_ _: In process_

Hermione was standing in front of Tom.

 _Come on Hermione, breathe. You can do it. It's just Riddle… For the moment. Wait… Is it what you agreed to in the tearoom ?_

She just opened her mouth to begin talking that Tom cut her.

"You will quickly learn that I do not need any tips. But thank you anyway". He said, keeping himself from being condescending.

Hermione knew better. She knew he was putting an act. He was jealous, she had beaten him in potions and he had not liked it.

 _Checkmate._

OoOoOo

Hermione left the room a couple of minutes later after him, a grin on her face. She walked in the hallway towards the Great Hall for lunch. She caught a glimpse of the boys, sitting together at the Slytherin table.

In front of Hermione was Abraxas. Hermione knew that the Malfoy family was blood purist, even in this timeline. The resentment Draco's grandfather had towards her was clear on his features right now. His jaw was tense as he looked at her, and disdain was evident in his pale eyes.

Tom was sat in the middle of his cronies, like a king overseeing his servitors. Since the last time she really looked at him in the infirmary, he had grown up a few inches, broader shoulders but he still had the same patronizing look on his face. Hermione realised that if Tom was to ask anything, from passing him the water pitcher to killing someone, his "court" would rush to fulfill his demands.

The food suddenly appeared on the table. Hermione took a good look at it. She had not seen that much food in months. She was aware of her condition : the undernutrition from months without eating properly. Seeing that much food made something twitch inside of her. It was not right, having that much considering the era she was living in.

The war was devastating the muggle world, people were dying on the street, and here she was. In front of her a feast she knew would not be entirely consumed. A silver plate fell behind her and made her turn around. She stared at the Gryffindor table.

And here he was, choking on his own his blood. His grey cardigan was tainted, his hair was dishevelled and his scars seemed new. She could see on his mouth the words "help me". But she did not move. She wanted to scream, shake everyone around her to help her late professor, her friend, Remus.

She felt someone grab her arm. She jumped in surprise, took her wand from her left arm holster and put it underneath Thorus throat. As her wand was pushing through his skin, an unforgivable almost escaped her mouth. Then, the white noise in her head disappeared and the great hall noise came back.

"The fuck Hortense ? Lower your wand". She heard Dolohov spit.

She withdrew her wand and hastily put in back in her holster.

"I.. I.. Sorry… I'm sorry…" She whispered.

She quickly stood up and felt light-headed. She swayed a little and saw Thorus touch her arm carefully.

"I've never seen you this pale Grace and that's saying a lot. Sit down." He gently told her.

She executed without thinking and stared at her plate. She saw a hand put an apple in front of her.

"Eat."

* * *

02.09.1942 :

Tom saw Clearwater drop a silver plate on the ground, causing a loud noise. Grace turned, startled. As she stared at the Gryffindor table, the blood drained from her already pale face. She was petrified, like she saw a ghost. She opened lightly her mouth ready to scream. It seemed like her eyes had been under a veil from remembrance.

Thorus, grabbed her arm and asked her how her first day was so far. Without even thinking, she drew her wand and placed it on his neck. She was so quick he didn't have the time to think "Quidditch". All the boys tensed. She was ready to curse him. Dolohov spoke up and she realised what she was doing. She was shaking.

After mumbling incoherent words, she stood up but Thorus made her sit. It seemed like she was about to faint. Tom realised she had not eaten anything since she arrived at Hogwarts. He had watched her, she had not touched anything last night, and this morning she did not show up for breakfast. He knew she would not handle a copious meal, so he grabbed a fruit, put in on her plate and told her to eat.

She looked at him. Tom saw pure anger and hatred. She stood up.

"Don't tell me what to do."

* * *

02.09.1942 :

Hermione saw a drop of water splash on her desk. She wiped the liquid from her chin. After the incident in the Great Hall, she rushed to the bathroom to splatter her face with cold water to cool down. While she stood in front of the mirror, her right side started burning again.

Professor Merrythought was explaining the syllabus. She could only see Remus' face and his blood on the table. She shivered.

 _No he is not dead, he is not dead. He is not dead yet. But you've seen him, you've seen him on this table, choking on his own blood, dying, looking right at you and asking for your help. You've already seen it, it had already happened. But it had not happened yet !_

She was gripping the edge of the desk so hard that her knuckles became white.

 _Don't let it get to your head. Don't let it get to your head. Don't let it get to your head…_

"Miss Hortense ?" The professor interrupted her.

She glared at Merrythought. Her grey hair betrayed her young face. Even though she did look a little bit like professor Sprout, the spark in her eyes reminded Hermione of McGonagall.

"If you do not want to participate in this class, you know after what had happened…"

 _How come she already knows ? It happened 15 minutes ago._

"Back in France". She finished.

"I'm totally fine professor."

"Well I don't know your duel skills yet, would you consider yourself experimented ?" The professor asked almost casually.

A silence settled in the room, and all eyes were on Hermione. She silently chuckled.

"Maybe quite experimented…? " Hermione said.

"Well, who can I put you with ?" Merrythought asker for herself at loud.

"I volunteer." Dolohov said while standing up.

Hermione turned around, and smiled at him.

 _It's just a class. You only need to disarm him._

Merrythought flicked her wand, and the room reorganised itself to welcome duels. She saw from the corner of her eyes Milton smiling at her and welcoming her to sit next to him. But she couldn't. She was too embarrassed by what happened in the Great Hall. So she took the seat next to a Gryffindor. The first duel began. Hermione spaced out.

 _Do you remember your second year ? With Lockhart. Oh God ! The crush you've had on him. You've drawn hearts on your timetable right next to his name. Harry and Ron were making fun of you. Of course they were, it was pathetic._

She smiled.

 _And from the moment you've discovered Lockhart was a scam, Ron would not stop teasing you, and Harry would… No. Stop it right now. You can't do that. Don't you dare think about them Hermione. It's been four months, you can't break now._

She focused on the duels, trying to get rid of the memories in her head. As the spells were cast, she made observations. None of them were outstanding. As soon as Hermione started realising she was playing, again, with her signet ring, she stopped.

 _In a battle, they wouldn't last 10 seconds._

She was waiting for Tom to duel. She tried to ignore that little voice in her head telling her that Tom's duel would be impressive. But once his name was called out, her entire attention was focused on him. He bowed to his opponent.

 _You didn't know he could bow to someone other than a mirror, didn't you Hermione ?_

Red and blue were mixing in front of her. The duel just lasted for a couple of minutes, but she saw him duel. She saw his speed, his attentiveness, his cunning but some things were missing. First, he could not use what he was so desperate to use. Secondly, his lack of creativity.

 _Not that impressive finally._

"Good job Longbottom !" Merrythought said to the other boy, a shy smile on her face.

 _Longbottom ? Neville's grandfather ?_

The professor turned her head to Tom and nodded respectfully.

Tom sat back, a fake humble smiled spread on his face.

"Who's next ?" The professor asked.

Dolohov looked right at Hermione, nodded at her and stood up.

 _Hermione, go easy on him._

She was in front of him. Merrythought reminded, as usual, the rules to follow during a duel :

"No unforgivables and no dark spells."

She bowed, like she was supposed to. He bowed back.

 _He is only fifteen Hermione, don't be scared. He is not the one who scarred you. Not yet._

She cast the first spell.

"Stupefy"

He replied with a protego. Hermione knew he would not bend at the first spell, so she kept going on.

"Expelliarmus, Impedimenta, Confringo"

He shielded the two first one, and ducked the last. She wanted to know if he was strong. If he could beat her, even though she knew deep of her inside it was not possible. So she stopped attacking him. She stood, straight, defying him.

And he took the opportunity. He cast curses, and she only had to move her left shoulder slightly to the left to avoid them. It was too easy, and he knew it. He was frustrated, but she was delighted. If delighted was the right term, she did not know, but just seeing him getting angrier by the weak impact he had on her, was enough for now.

"Petrificus Totalus" he shouted, panting.

She started laughing. She knew this laugh. It was Bellatrix'. If she was in her right mind, she would have stopped, but she was not.

She thought he was creative. She knew for a fact he would become innovative and Slughorn had said it. But at this moment, he was only casting third-year spells. When would he become dangerous ? Would he ?

And then he did.

"Stupefy."

He almost screamed it. And she had enjoyed it. She could see it on his face. This anger, this will to beat her. And she had liked it. She did not want to stop now, she was having too much fun, even though she was not supposed to.

 _But who cares ?_

 _We aren't on a battlefield, no one is going to die, so why not enjoy yourself ?_

His gaze changed. His eyes became black. His anger was now at his utmost.

"Wingardium Leviosa"

It seemed simple, and it was. But casting that to throw a desk at her face was creative. And at this moment, she smiled. He was there, standing in front of her, the man who would haunt her dreams. The one who would use simple spells and transform them into nightmares. A desk ? Yes it seemed like it was laughable, but she knew better.

"Expelliarmus"

The spell was messy. Her wand flew to the other side of the room. Even if she knew the _expelliarmus_ charm was red, she saw purple. This spell was supposed to be red, but how come she saw purple ? Then she became somebody else.

She was somebody else. She was not Hermione Granger nor Grace Hortense, she was someone she would not have thought one day she would become. And she didn't care.

Dolohov started smiling, like he knew he had just won. So she summoned her wand, wandlessly. He gasped.

She caught it with her right hand. From this moment she knew. And it began. She cast wordless spells on wordless spells. She couldn't stop. Then, it was her turn to be creative.

 _Avis_

Birds began flying around her head. She remembered her sixth year. He lacked understanding what she was trying to do.

 _Oppugno_

The birds steered to his face. He tried to get rid of them by moving his arms.

 _Gemini_

She cloned herself once. Then cast a "Notice me not" spell on herself. She moved quickly to stand behind him while he was too focused on the birds attacking him. Thanks to a "Petrificus Totalus" he stopped the birds from bothering him and faced the fake Hermione.

He cast a "Reducto". The spell went through the silhouette and she saw his body tense. She took a quick look around the class and they also wondered where she had disappeared.

 _Finite Incantatem_

She appeared behind him. She cast a small spell on his right shoulder. He turned around, and his eyes opened wide. She was playing with him, like a tiger playing with its food.

"Expecto patronum !"

Her usual silver otter escaped from her wand. Dolohov took a step back and fell on the ground.

Antonin stood up.

 _Stupefy_

He fell back again, and got up quickly.

 _Expelliarmus_

She caught his wand

She liked this duel. She liked dueling with him. She liked knowing she could destroy him. She liked playing with him. Every spell she threw at him, she remembered the pain in her chest. Her scars started burning from the hatred inside of her.

She hated him. He hurt her, he messed with her brain, he made her feel weak, and she hated him for that. He was now standing in front of her, as the world belonged to him, and she hated him more.

The smile he had on his face, the way he laughed with his friends, the innocence he still had, she wanted to take all of that away from him as he had taken hers. Like he had scarred her, like he had made her feel like she was nothing. She hated him.

"Ok, Stop !" Merrythought interrupted the duel.

"Cru…" She started.

* * *

02.09.1942 :

 _...cio ?_

 _Was she going to cast it if she had not been stopped ? Was she willing to ? Has she done it before ?_

Tom, for the first time since Grace had arrived, had no doubt. She had been in a war. She had dueled. And she had won. He knew, from Abraxas, that a little circle of students had created a resistance. Had she been a part of it ?

 _She had._

Tom was not easily impressed. But after what he had just witnessed he could not hide his surprise. She was good, he knew it, and he was jealous. He looked at Dolohov. He was white as chalk. Tom had always found Dolohov interesting, he had potential, but after this duel he was disappointed in him.

 _Hortense, at first you had my curiosity, but now you have my attention._

Tom heard the whispers, the class was gossiping. Merrythought was talking to Dolohov, making sure he was alright. Grace, was standing, her wand in her right hand, her gaze focused on Dolohov, filled with anger. She was breathing heavily.

"Go to the infirmary, right now". Merrythought told her.

Tom stood up.

"I am prefect. I will take her." He said instinctively.

He was the first to leave the classroom. She joined him a couple of seconds later. They started walking in the corridors. He wanted to ask her so many questions, but he knew it was not the moment. The arrived at the infirmary. Miss Asphodela approached them.

"Professor Merrythought told me to come here". Grace said.

Her voice was so different from the one she had during the duel. It was emotionless. She glared at the matron, a quick defying look on her face. She sat on the bed on the left.

"Do you have any injuries dear ?"

"No spells hit her." Tom declared.

The nurse nodded and got closer to Grace.

"Is it your right side ? Is it still not healed ?" She asked her.

Grace did not answer, she just gave the nurse a knowing look.

"Listen," Grace started after a few silent seconds "I am totally fine. Just got a little too enthusiastic during a duel."

"So no old injuries hurting then ?" Miss Asphodela responded.

"She broke her left ankle when she was eight years old." He answered for her.

Grace rose her head and looked at him, with a mix of confusion and wariness.

"I am not sure it is relevant, but thank you Mr. Riddle." Miss Asphodela said, uncomfortable.

Tom was asked to leave. He waited in front of the infirmary door.

 _Dolohov disappointed me. I would have thought better of him._

 _That was not what I asked him to do._

Fifteen minutes later Grace stepped out of the infirmary, a paper in her hand.

"You shouldn't be here Riddle, you should have gone to class." Grace told him. He took the note from her hand and smiled at her.

"Do not worry about that, we have here our pass." He smirked, raising the white sheet in front of her. She did not waste time, and headed towards their next class : Transfiguration.

She knocked on the door thrice and stepped in. Dumbledore looked at the paper Tom had in his hand, raised an eyebrow, and then nodded, allowing them to take a sit. The only spots left were at the back, on the left, next to the window.

She sat first, then he followed. He knew, from experience, that Dumbledore's first class always was the most spectacular. The old man transfigured a gold coin into a niffler. The girls were marvelling over the small animal. Except for her. She did not care. He saw from the corner of his eye that she was focused on something else.

He turned slightly his head to the left and saw here staring at Dumbledore. It was not the typical stare, the one filled with admiration and fondness. It was cold, calculating, despising and full of disappointment. He wondered why. She was the first student who did not idolize the professor.

Well except him.

 _Who are you Grace ?_

It was the first time he thought of her using her first name.

OoOoOo

Abraxas left the room just before him. Tom stopped him to go further by grabbing his right shoulder.

"Malfoy, I need you to do something." He said.

 _Let's find out what you are hiding Hortense._

* * *

 **Author's note : Hi everyone, this is the third chapter of DDM. Hope you guys like it ! **

**You can follow our Tumblr : agarariddle-andhernachos**

 **Btw each chapter title is a song, you can check them out if you want**

 **-** **DDM's Managers**


	4. TWO GHOSTS

" **Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

Thoughts are written in italics

Big line : New POV

OoOoO : Same POV / Timelapse

 **CHAPTER FOUR : TWO GHOSTS**

* * *

03.09.1942

The black lake was the same colour as the sky. Grey. The sun just rose, and a beautiful silence enveloped Hermione. Hogwarts had not been this quiet since Dumbledore's death, in sixth year. She liked it. Being alone had always been scary, but not today, not at this moment.

Her eyes were falling from sleepiness. She had not been able to sleep soundly for months. The nightmares were still here.

One, in particular, was regular. They are in Dean's forest. Harry and Her. Ron had left, and she feels betrayed, alone, afraid. Even Harry's presence is not enough. But she knows she has to be strong.

It is dark outside. Each branch from each tree looks like Bellatrix's wand, and their shadows on the tent's cloth are ghastly. The sound of the wind, similar to Dolohov's snicker, sends shivers down her spine. She goes outside, wand at the ready. Noises are coming from everywhere, steps, cracks, breathing. It gets closer. Then, the breath. On her neck. Warm and frightening. She turns around. And she wakes up. Alone, shaking, tears rolling on her cheeks, and a scream stuck in her throat.

She had not been able to get back to sleep so she had left her dormitory. And here she was, three hours before her first class. She was sat against the old tree facing the lake.

After two hours of charms, she left the room. She had not talked to anyone since yesterday and she had not been willing to participate in class. The students were walking eagerly in the corridors to get to lunch. She arrived in the Great Hall, and headed toward the Slytherin table. They were staring at her, not knowing if they had to scooch to let her sit. She smirked. She got closer.

" _Bonjour_ " She said, smiling.

She took the seat between Isodor Avery and Edmund Rosier. Dolohov, in front of her, was waiting for her to talk to him about yesterday, to apologize, to stop pretending she was above him.

From the moment she sat down, the conversation stopped. Thorus was staring at his plate, apparently finding his beef very interesting. Edgard Lestrange didn't seem to care about the situation. Abraxas was gawking at her, with the same arrogant look he always had when looking at her. Milton, well, he was being Milton. Then Tom. He was eating, almost impassive if it was not for the slight upward movement on his lips.

"I guess I need to... " She started.

 _Dolohov, did you really think, even for a second, that I would lower myself to apologize ? And to you ? You've guessed wrong. Try again._

She was dragging the "to" while defying Dolohov. She could feel him get tensed. He was getting impatient. The silence became heavy. His lips started moving and Hermione knew it was not going to be pleasant to hear.

"No need to." Tom cut short.

Dolohov, in spite of his rage, nodded.

 _Riddle guessed right._

OoOoO

After one hour of Runes and two of Transfiguration, Hermione was drained. She already had homework. Dumbledore was a brilliant teacher but asking for 15 inches parchment at the beginning of the year was too much. Even for Hermione.

An hour had passed, she left the library and walked towards the dungeons to take a nap.

* * *

03.09.1942

Tom was still writing his essay when Grace left the library. He watched her. He had been waiting for her to leave in order to get started on his new book : Founders of Hogwarts.

The book began with Hogwart's Architecture.

 _Interesting._

OoOoO

The chimney was emanating a soft light. Tom was sat on the large green leather English couch. Abraxas, Antonin, and Milton were fussing about Dumbledore.

"15 inches ! What next ? My soul ?" Milton exaggerated.

Tom heard Isodor snicker behind him.

"Don't worry Milton, I'll help you if you need". Thorus offered while taking a seat next to him.

 _Instead of talking, get working on it._

 _I have already finished mine. Hortense did too._

He had seen her parchment, it had seemed quite long for only fifteen inches.

Tom had not seen Grace since the library, two hours ago. She did not attend dinner and she was nowhere to be seen. He turned his head to the right and saw in the corner of the common room Walburga Black arguing with the oldest Parkinson. Walburga was staring at him angrily.

"Black." Tom's voice was loud enough for her to turn around. "Is there someone in your dormitory ?"

"Why are you asking ?" She spat back.

"Answer me."

His voice had become deeper, darker.

"No. No one is up there" She finally answered.

 _What are you up to Hortense ?_

* * *

04.09.1942

Once more Hermione had not been able to sleep through the night. Dark sleeping bags were visible under her eyes. Thorus was leaning against the Great Hall's door frame, a toast in his mouth and another one in his right hand.

"You're late" He told her handing her the toast.

He took her by the arm and they began walking.

"Late ? What are you talking about ? Where are you taking me ?" She asked, slightly panicked.

"Well, first calm down. Secondly, if you had listened to what I was saying in Runes yesterday you would have known what I am talking about, Quidditch tryouts ! And thirdly, I am taking you with me to witness Abraxas trying for seeker, and failing."

Hermione took a bite.

"I can't refuse then." She replied.

They arrived in the bleachers. It was cold for a September morning. Milton and Tom were already there.

"Hello Gracie !" Milton smiled at her.

She smiled back.

"Well sit down Grace." Thorus told her. "This is Flint. He is the captain."

 _Is it a family tradition ?_

"I see the bats in Rosier and Lestrange hands. I guess they are both beaters. And I can see that Flint is a chaser." Hermione interrupted him.

"Look at you, little Quidditch fan." Thorus snickered.

She pushed him slightly.

"Slytherin is missing two chasers, a keeper and a seeker." He kept going.

"It seems like a lot."

"If you had witnessed the final match last year, you would know why."

She looked at him, alarmed. He laughed but did not explain further.

 _It's weird, isn't it ? Being here, watching tryouts for another team._

"Let's get started." Milton said. "Who bets on who ?"

"2 galleons on Black for chaser." Thorus replied.

"Which one ?" Tom intervened, bored.

"Cygnus."

"Then I bet on Orion." Milton declared. "3 galleons for chaser. What about you Gracie ?"

She looked at the field. And pointed almost randomly at a player.

"This one. Keeper. 4 galleons."

Thorus laughed. "You don't even know who this is."

"Don't need to. I can feel it." She smiled.

She had chosen him because he was wearing the same protection Ron did in his fifth year.

Flint blew the whistle. It began.

When she watched the Gryffindor's team tryout, she was almost glad to be there. She was looking at her friends, encouraging them. But today was different. She was freezing, tired and she did not care about the players at all. She needed to be there though. Even if Step 2 was completed, it needed to be maintained.

"How are you feeling ?" Thorus asked her quietly.

" _Fantastique_ ! I love being here at 9 AM, in the freezing cold, watching a sport I don't even like."

"No seriously, how are you ?"

She stopped. It seemed like he was genuinely caring.

"I'm fine." She answered.

He did not look convinced. His stare caught Milton's one, and they exchanged a dubious look.

"What are…" She started.

"Thorus !" Isodor yelled. "It's Abraxas' turn."

Thorus sent her an apologizing smile and left with Milton. She was alone with Tom. They were sat in silence, a comfortable silence.

* * *

04.09.1942

Ten minutes into the tryouts, the first injury occurred. Orion Black fell violently to the ground after being hit in the face by a quaffle.

Tom and Grace winced simultaneously.

"Too predictable. He should have feint to the left." She whispered to herself.

"I thought you did not like Quidditch." He replied.

"Making an observation doesn't mean I like the sport."

"You seem quite aware of Quidditch strategies for someone who does not like the game." Tom retorqued. "And do not tell me you have read a book about it."

"I used to watch my friends play". She replied quietly.

Tom could feel something more in her expression. It was barely there, almost nonexistent : nostalgia and guilt.

 _Do tell me more._

"Which position ?" He asked.

 _Chaser._

"I was friend with the entire quidditch team" She replied.

 _Too easy Hortense. We all know you were best friend with the chaser._

 _Do not try to fool me. I need more._

"I would have not thought you were friends with the jocks." He mocked.

"Nice to reduce someone only to his extracurricular activity."

"Do not put words in my mouth." He told her, slightly annoyed.

The silence came back. A few moments before, Abraxas had tried a Wronski feint and failed. But in the end, he still caught the snitch.

"Bold of him to think he could succeed such a move." Tom commented. "I have never seen a successful one."

"Yes, I guess it's really difficult to execute". She replied knowingly. "But a fifth year could do it."

 _We are getting there._

"You seem quite confident that a boy of that age could achieve it."

"I am. I've seen it before." She answered proudly.

"A friend of yours maybe ?"

Grace stood up. Tom's gaze followed her every move.

"If you have something to ask Riddle, just do it." She started while walking slowly away.

 _How did you survive ?_

 _How did you learn how to survive ?_

 _How did you master how to fight ?_

 _How could a fourteen-year-old girl be the only survivor ?_

 _How come you hate Dumbledore ?_

 _How can you hate the enemy of your enemy ?_

 _How could a fourteen-year-old girl appear into Hogwarts ?_

 _How come you have chosen Hogwarts ?_

 _Unless you never had to survive_

 _Unless you never had to learn_

 _Unless you were trained to_

 _Unless there is no survivor_

 _Unless you were brainwashed to_

 _Unless there was no enemy to begin with_

 _Unless you were given the device for_

 _Unless you did not choose. Unless you were asked to. Unless you were ordered to._

Tom rose. He asked a question.

She nodded.

* * *

04.09.1942

 _So Binns was already dead in 1942._

Hermione checked the time. Only 10 minutes since the class had begun and she was already bored. Not that the siege of Braumau was not interesting, but learning it again was not exalting. She was sat between Milton and Thorus, who looked equally bored. Isodor, behind her, was snickering with Edmund and Edgar. In front of her was the rest of the group. For once, Tom was not in the middle.

After 35 minutes, her paper was filled with little doodles, oddly shaped like the letter "s".

"Professor !" She heard a male voice say. "As long as we're talking about the siege, don't you think it could be interesting to compare Braumau's one with what had happened in France ? You know after this morning paper, the article..."

She rose her head and felt eyes on her.

* * *

04.09.1942

"Which article ?" The ghost answered.

"Well…" The boy quickly glanced at her, uneasy "The Daily Prophet printed the official kill list, and explained what really happened over there. There also are few extracts from journals."

The Ravenclaw was not sure how to explain the situation to the professor. He felt embarrassed.

"Students journals."

Tom quickly glanced at her and saw true panic in her eyes.

 _What a shame Thorus intercepted you before you could get into the Great Hall and read the paper._

 _Having a friend who is genuinely concerned about your well being. How lucky are you ?_

 _Funny how little well-chosen words can put an idea in a boy's head : whether to help a friend to avoid getting hurt or to ask the right question at the right moment._

Thorus leaned into Grace's side and whispered something in her ear, using a calming voice.

She was gripping her quill so hard, he felt like it would break.

"Well, keep talking !" Binns asked the Ravenclaw, eager to know.

"The students explain...explained" he rectified "What they've been through. The lack of food, of sleep, the constant attacks, the militia they created and how it reduced week after week."

Binns turned to Grace.

"I guess the only person here, more qualified than I am to talk to you about that is Miss Hortense."

A loud silence settled.

 _Let's play a game Hortense._

 _A game where I can have my answers. A game where I set the rules._

 _ **Rule n°1**_ _: I always choose the situation._

 _Let's see how you get out of this one._

"No need !" Walburga snickered at the front of the room. "I can explain to the class myself".

 _ **Rule n°2 :**_ _There are only two players._

The students were all frowning, not understanding what was happening. Tom was staring at Black, waiting for the rest of the sentence to follow.

Walburga turned around to face Grace, a haughty smile on her face, and with the most insufferable voice finished what she had started :

"Yes, you scream while you sleep Grace."

 _Maybe it is time to have a little chat with Black._

The entire room was staring at her. Tom was staring too. But unlike the others who were worried and eager, he was calm. She scanned briefly the room, and once her eyes caught him, he raised an eyebrow, defying her to react.

She stood straight in her seat, dropped her quill and smiled.

"Let's hear you talk about it then." Grace finally said. "Explain us. Explain us the claustrophobia. The feeling of the walls caving in, the urge to break every one of them down, just to be able to breathe again.

Explain us the exhaustion, after weeks of barely sleeping. Explain us the anguish, the anguish of making too much noise. Knowing that every sound you make, even almost inaudible, may tell them where you are.

Explain us the scent. The scent of blood and flesh. The scent of death. Yes Walburga, tell us what death smells like. Then explain us the fear. The fear of noise, especially when the noise is escaping from your friend's mouth, bleeding to death. But also the fear of silence, because you don't know if you are alone and how come you're alone.

The fear of light, the one escaping from wands, but also the fear of darkness, the one leaving you all alone with your imagination. The fear of colours, the colour of the spell hitting you.

The fear of being too slow or too fast. The fear of being too nice, or too cruel. The fear of losing yourself or staying exactly the same.

The fear of leaving with your partner for rounds and coming back alone. The fear of talking to a friend not knowing if it will be the last time.

So tell us Walburga, tell us all about the guilt of being the only survivor."

* * *

04.09.1942

She could feel Thorus, besides her, holding his breath. Hermione saw the pity. The pity is their eyes, they were all looking at her with a mixture of admiration and sadness. Well everyone except him. No sign of pity nor empathy. Not even a glint of emotion in his eyes.

Then, he nodded.

OoOoO

Hermione was still slightly shaking as she walked toward her DADA class. She chose to walk alone, behind the rest of the class. Before entering the room, she ran a hand across her face and took a deep breath.

She was about to step inside the classroom but someone blocked her from entering. She looked at the person facing her.

"Miss Hortense, today is again a practical class. Are you in the right mind to participate ?" Merrythought asked her, concerned.

 _Is she asking you this because of the last practical class ? Or because of the article ? Or because of what happened in Binns' class ?_

 _Are you in the right mind to participate Hermione ?_

"I'm not." Hermione answered.

"There is no reason for you to attend the class then." She smiled kindly.

Hermione shyly smiled back.

"And after all, you will not learn anything new today." Merrythought added, praising her.

Hermione knew where she was going to go instead of attending DADA. She arrived on the seventh floor. Passed three times.

 _I need to see them. I need to see them. I need to see them._

The door appeared, she pushed it and entered their wagon on the Hogwarts Express. The one where they met, the one where they laughed, the one where they cried, the one where they argued, the one where they said hello and the one where they said goodbye. The number on the door was not always the same but the feeling never changed.

She could almost see Ron's freckles and Harry's messy hair. She could almost hear them laughing about Percy and talking about Quidditch. She could almost feel them, their presence. But something had changed. She looked around her, seeking out the wrong in the right.

She saw herself in the window. And she knew. She was the wrong in the right.

"I'm all alone." She laughed quietly. "They're not here. Harry and Ron aren't here."

It was the first time she had said their names out loud.

Then, she snapped.

"YOU LEFT ME HERE. YOU'VE ABANDONED ME. HOW COULD YOU DO THAT ?"

She threw her bag in the air. Its handle got caught into a luggage's corner and made it fall on the seats. It opened loudly. She took the belongings in it and threw them around, screaming at the top of her lungs towards her friends. Or rather the ghosts of her friends.

But they were not here.

She could not breathe, she was suffocating. She tore her tie away from her neck. She watched the cloth, its green colour testifying for her loss. She stopped. She was not mad at them. She was mad at herself.

She rose her head and stared at her reflection, again.

"You did so great Hermione. The brightest witch of your age. The mighty Hermione Granger, who saved Harry's precious life, more times than you can count. But no one's there to save you. No one's there when you fuck up. And you did fuck up. You fucked up big time."

She started crying.

"YOU FUCKED UP. COULDN'T YOU JUST FOLLOW THE GODDAMN PLAN ? IT'S YOUR FAULT. EVERYTHING IS YOUR FAULT. YOU FUCKED UP. YOU FUCKED UP. YOU FUCKING FUCKED UP."

She threw a punch at herself. She window broke in tiny fragments.

"It's my fault. Everything's my fault. I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucking fucked up."

She let herself sink to the floor. At this moment there was no green anymore, only red, crimson red. She laughed through her tears, unable to stop due to the irony of the situation.

The blood started to drench her white shirt. She ripped out her sleeve.

And there it was. Always there. Mocking her. Taunting her. Haunting her.

 _Mudblood._

She scratched it eagerly. The pain did not stop her. The blood did not stop her. But the laugh did. Strident, diabolical and deafening. She put her fingers in her hair, pulling it. She buried her head in her knees. She _needed_ it to stop.

"I just want to go home. I just want to go home. I just want to go home." She cried like she did when she was a little girl.

A warm silence took over the laugh. She felt the comfortable mattress underneath her. She felt the reassuring linen against her skin. She smelled the familiar fabric softener. She knew where she was. Right where she belongs. Right, where she would come at night when she was little, scared, and looking for her parents. She was in their bed. She was finally home.

* * *

05.09.1942

"Do not worry, this spell is difficult to master and will take time to. We will be working on it until the end of seventh year." Dumbledore informed the class with his loud voice. "Miss Crestfellow, could you remind us the six steps to achieve a perfect Incarcerous ?"

The Hufflepuff rose from her seat : "The first step is to conjure a thin and short filament. The second one is the size of a shoelace. Then the size of a measurement tape." She stopped for a few seconds to think. "The fourth step is to cast a short but thick rope, then a thin but long rope. The last step is mastering the spell : conjuring a solid and long rope."

"Thank you Miss Crestfellow, 5 points for Hufflepuff. But you have made a little mistake. The fourth step is the thin but long rope and the fifth one is the short but thick." Dumbledore explained.

Esomilda Crestfellow turned a bright shade of red before sitting back in her chair.

"A lot of my students make this error." Dumbledore chuckled.

 _No. They do not._

This first hour of the class was purely theoretical. The professor explained in details, through diagrams, each step.

"We have one hour left, I would like you to try to master the first step. If you need any help, don't be shy." The red hair teacher smiled.

 _In_

 _Car_

 _Ce_

 _Rous_

 _In-car-ce-rous_

 _Incarcerous_

"Incarcerous." Tom cast.

A thread the size of a shoelace escaped his wand. He smiled. The other fifth years around him were only just able (for those who could) to conjure thin and short filaments. Tom glanced at Dumbledore and saw that the old man was already looking at him.

"10 points to Slytherin". He said, without any emotion. "I see you don't need help Tom."

Tom's gaze flew over the room and he analyzed the performances. He was glad to witness that the Slytherin house was doing better than the Hufflepuff.

"Well done !" He heard Dumbledore praise behind him.

He turned around. Thorus was smiling at the professor. "10 points to Slytherin thanks to Mister Nott. Perfect filament ! I would like you to start studying the next step's diagrams."

 _10 points ? For a thin filament ? I gave you an entire shoelace._

"Miss Hortense. It is our third class together and I have not yet heard the sound of your voice. You would care to try the first step ?"

Tom was waiting to see which step Grace would manage. After all, she was supposed to be the Transfiguration Club Vice-President back in France. But he was eager to witness the interaction between the professor and her.

She was sitting alone in her chair, at the back of the room. The professor was standing in front of her. She rose her wand slightly and flicked it.

Tom saw a dark shape escape from it and fly rapidly to the opposite of the room. It wrapped itself tightly around the mannequin standing in the right corner. It was thick and dark brown. It quite looked like a rope from a boat.

She already mastered the sixth step. Perfectly.

And yet, the professor did not hear the sound of her voice.

She turned her head to face Dumbledore waiting for him to say something.

"Impressive Miss Hortense." He said, trying to hide his surprise. "You are skilled at transfiguration. After all, _Monsieur_ De Villières had talked to me about you."

Grace smiled.

 _But no points were awarded._

OoOoOo

At 3PM Tom left his Arithmancy class and headed towards the library for his one hour break before Potions. He got close to his usual table in the left corner. The other Slytherin were already there and chatting quietly. On his seat was laying an open book. He took it and rapidly scanned the pages.

 _Muggles studies._

Tom liked order, liked things being in the right place. He closed it and returned it to the muggle section.

He started working on his 10 inches DADA essay.

"Where's Hortense ?" Dolohov asked Isodor quitely, faking disinvestment.

"I don't know. Why would I know ?" The other one answered while continuing writing his essay.

"She's your friend isn't she ?" Antonin almost spat, full of disdain.

"I'm your friend and I don't care where you go."

Edmund laughed. Tom cleared his throat. Edgard elbowed Lestrange and gave him the look for him to stop.

"Where's Grace ?" Isodor asked Thorus discreetly.

He did not answered but turned toward Milton.

"Do you know where she is Milton ?"

"I don't know. What about you Abraxas ?" Milton said naively.

"The fuck you ask me, she's not my friend." Abraxas spat.

Tom violently closed his book, causing a loud noise. A silence settled.

"If you are not here to work, then leave."

 _Where are you Hortense ?_

OoOoOo

The fifth year Slytherin entered the room for their last class : double potion.

"Everyone sit down please". The large professor demanded. The students obeyed.

Tom put his bag on his usual table and started taking his belongings out of it. In front of the class, just like last time, was Grace's desk. Her potion's possessions were already displayed on her desk and her book already opened.

"Draught of peace. Can someone tell me a little bit more about the potion you will brew today ?" He continued.

"It is a really difficult potion to brew, any mistake in the concoction may have drastic consequences. For instance, adding too much ingredients can put the drinker in a deep sleep state, possibly irreversible." Pax Zabini answered.

"Marvellous ! 10 points to Slytherin !"

Tom found this potion more interesting to make than the last one. It was delicate, it was precise, and he was meticulous. His potion followed exactly the change of colours expected : green, blue, purple, pink, turquoise…

She was cleaning out her table. She was tidying her belongings. She gave professor Slughorn a turquoise vial. Only fifty minutes. She only took fifty minutes. Tom was taken aback.

 _How ?_

 _Turquoise ? It is not the final stage._

She gave the professor her best smile, he whispered something and she laughed quietly. His gaze followed her silhouette, leaving the classroom.

 _Why are you leaving ? You clearly messed up the potion._

 _You still have time. So why are you leaving Hortense ?_

 _I may know you for just a week, but I know you care about your grades : you always start your essay as soon as you can, you always have the right answer in class and you have already passed your potion's OWLS._

 _So why are you leaving ? And why is he allowing you to leave ?_

* * *

05.09.1942

Hermione opened the door in a small creek. The few people who were here were whispering, but no one was looking at her. The room was not what she remembered from her own timeline. The tables seemed new, the fireplace was being used and a warm light escaped from it. She had never seen the place like that, and even though it was welcoming, she did not feel at ease.

She automatically sat on one of the high stool. She took her scarf off and put it in the chair next to her.

"Welcome to the Hogshead, what can I get you ?" She heard the bartender ask.

"Firewhiskey." She answered determined.

He put a glass in front of her and poured the amber liquid. She took it and drank the first sip. The warmth of the alcohol burned her throat, but her face stayed emotionless, from habit. He discreetly watched over her.

 _In the future, he would never serve a minor._

"Rough day at school ?" Alberforth asked while wiping a glass.

"Rough couple of months you'd say."

He laughed softly. She drank up the entire glass and put it down.

"I hope you're not skipping any class while being here."

It was her turn to laugh.

"Only transfiguration." She lied knowingly, a small smile on her face.

He looked at her for a couple a seconds then poured another drink in her empty glass.

"This one's on the house." He commented, a genuine smile on his lips. "So, what are you looking for then ?"

 _What… ?_

"...the funny bartender, the brooding bartender, the listening bartender ? The list goes on and on."

"What about just you being yourself ? I am kinda tired of people changing their personalities just for me. Be funny if you want to, brood if you need to and if you are interested you can always listen." She finished her glass. "But to be totally honest, what I am looking for in a bartender is for him to keep filling my glass."

"That, I can do"

She emptied another one and felt at ease.

* * *

 **Author's Note :** **First we are two writing this ff and we just realized that in the first 3 chapters one of us was writing "Hortense" with an "h" and we apologize for this mistake.**

 **Secondly, we covered an entire week of school on purpose but don't worry it's moving faster in the next chapter !**

 **Hope you guys like it !**

 **\- Agara**

 **DDM's Manager**


	5. DECEIT & BETRAYAL

" **Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

 **CHAPTER FIVE : DECEIT & BETRAYAL**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE : This chapter is a little different. Take the time to read, don't rush. Important information may appear and may be important later.**

 **Everything you are about to read happen in 15 minutes.**

* * *

26.10.1942

"You have fifteen minutes. No less, no more !" Slughorn almost yelled. "I will not tolerate this kind of behavior in my own house ! If I don't have the phial by the time I come back…"

He left the room and slammed the door violently behind him.

* * *

26.10.1942

This Friday had begun normally, the Slytherin-fifth-year had started the day with two hours of Transfiguration then one hour of theoretical DADA. After their lunch break, for those who chose who had chosen Arithmancy, like most of the people present in the room, they had two hours of it.

Then Muggle Studies, but they are in Slytherin, they are supposedly not allowed to take this course. So they had gone to the library for one hour, well for most of them. So here they were, after two hours of potions. The class had started, as usual, Slughorn had given the instructions and the students had begun brewing for two hours.

An hour and forty-six minutes later, Slughorn had left the class unattended for exactly four minutes and thirty-six seconds. In the meantime, Cassandre Parkinson had burst into the room, two minutes and fourteen seconds after the professor's departure, for private matters.

Four minutes and thirty-six seconds had passed, Slughorn had come back into the room. He had told Cassandre Parkinson, a fourth-year Slytherin, to settle his argument outside the class and had given the permission to his students to clean up their desks and to leave.

He had gone into his private storage room for exactly fifty-three seconds and had come back furious. The classroom was impeccable and all the Slytherin were ready to leave.

"No one moves." He had said. They obeyed. "Everyone sit. You too Parkinson." They obeyed. "One of you stole something of mine."

He told them what.

"We are going to settle that between us. You have fifteen minutes to give it back to me. If not, I will take this matter to Dippet and you will face the consequences of your action."

The silence was deafening.

"You have fifteen minutes. No less, no more !" Slughorn almost yelled. "I will not tolerate this kind of behavior in my own house ! If I don't have the phial when I come back…"

He left the room and slammed the door violently behind him.

* * *

26.10.1942

TOM

Slughorn left the room and just only a couple of minutes later, the door opened violently. The youngest Parkinson began shouting towards Walburga Black.

"From a letter ?" He yelled. "I've learned it from a letter ? You didn't even have the courage to say it to my face."

 _What now ?_

"Cass…" She started.

"And you !" Cassandre Parkinson pointed his finger to Orion Black, cutting Walburga Black. "You fucking liar !" He shoved Orion Black's ink pot to the ground and grabbed him by the collar. "You look me in the eye and tell me you how much of traitor you are."

Thorus Nott, who was sitting next to Orion Black, heard the creek of the door announcing Slughorn's come back into the room. He pushed lightly Cassandre Parkinson and told him to calm down.

Tom started cleaning his desk, after Slughorn's order. He was eager to leave the room, head to the library, and carry on his research.

"No one moves." Slughorn said. They obeyed. "Everyone sit. You too Parkinson." They obeyed. "One of you stole something of mine."

He told them what.

"We are going to settle that between us. You have fifteen minutes to give it back to me. If not, I will take this matter to Dippet and you will face the consequences of your action."

The silence was deafening.

"You have fifteen minutes. No less, no more !" Slughorn almost yelled. "I will not tolerate this kind of behavior in my own house ! If I don't have the phial by the time I come back…"

He left the room and slammed the door violently behind him.

 _What the bloody hell ?_

No one dared move a finger or say a word. He turned back and faced the fifth-years.

"The one who did it, give the phial back." He said in a cold, stern voice.

No one moved. They were all staring at each other, suspicious.

Then, it began.

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 15

ANTONIN DOLOHOV

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article.**

"Well, we all know who needs it the most." He said putting his hands behind his neck leaning back into his chair, casually. "Malfoy, hand over the phial."

But for the matter, Antonin Dolohov was against his long-time friend, Abraxas Malfoy.

"Excuse-me ?" The blond asked puzzled.

"Come on, we all know about your father's problems with the wizengamot." Antonin Dolohov snorted, confident.

"Don't you dare talk about Septimus Malfoy that way !" Galbanda Greengrass spat right away.

"Call back your little pet Malfoy" Tom intervened. "If you have something to say for your family, do it yourself."

Orion Black snickered "Everyone knows cowardice runs in their veins."

Antonin Dolohov saw, in the corner of his eyes, Grace hide a smile.

"You have something to add Hortense ?" Antonin Dolohov asked her spitefully.

"Don't include me in your little pissing contest." She answered and sat on top of her table.

Antonin Dolohov and Abraxas Malfoy saw red.

"If we start accusing people, on their father's behalf, I guess Lestrange is one to blame." Edmund Rosier attacked his friend.

"Come again ?" Edgard Lestrange provoked, getting closer to Edmund Rosier. "What are you saying about my father ?"

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 14

EDGARD LESTRANGE

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would cause a mess between the most important wizarding families.**

"Come again ?" Edgard Lestrange provoked, getting closer to Edmund Rosier. "What are you saying about my father ?"

"As if you don't know. The entire wizarding world knows about your father. You even told me yourself. Come on man, there is another way to succeed than cheating. For once in your life, play fair and square : give the phial back."

Isodor Avery quickly rose from his seat and slot into the two Quidditch players. "Boys, calm down. It's not the right time to talk about that."

"Of course it is ! What could be the other reason than your parent's political scheme ?" Pax Zabini meddled while swinging his chair back and forth on two feet and throwing a green apple the air.

"You need a reason Zabini ?" Edgard Lestrange turned around, shoving Isodor Avery. "What about you ? You are a poor excuse for a Slytherin, with your grades, your behaviour, and now this ? Let's add thieve to your résumé."

"What's my connection with the phial ?"

"Haven't you heard what I just said ? Your grades are pathetic, everyone knows you won't pass your OWLS ! Who could need it more than you right now ?"

Pax Zabini stood up, his chair fell loudly on the ground, and he put his right hand into a fist, ready to punch Edgard Lestrange.

Cygnus Black held Pax Zabini by his shirt, stopping him from hitting Edgard Lestrange. "Mate, don't screw up, you've heard Slughorn if you fuck up one more time, you're out."

"We don't have time for this bullshit, we have only have thirteen minutes left until Slughorn returns." Galatis Carrow interrupted them, glancing at the mural clock. "Whoever stole the phial needs to give it back, right now. We won't tell his or her name." She gave a pointed look towards Antonin Dolohov and Belone Macnair.

"Lads, let's me stop you right now. I know who the culprit is." Milton Mulciber said loudly, full of pride.

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 13

MILTON MULCIBER

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would revive old tensions.**

"Lads, let's me stop you right now. I know who the culprit is." Milton Mulciber said loudly, full of pride.

Everyone stared at him, expectantly.

"Belone Macnair." The short boy added.

The entire assembly sighed. And Belone Macnair rolled her eyes.

"Really Milton ? Aren't you sick of this family feud ?" Thorus Nott told Milton Mulciber, exasperated.

"For Merlin's sake Mulciber, stop this nonsense, you're too biased." Cassandre Parkinson intervened.

"Of course it's her ! I've told you already !" Milton Mulciber stomped his left foot.

"Really ? And what would be her reason ?" Walburga Black added.

"She is an untrustworthy bitch, what other reason do you need Black ?" Galatis Carrow shouted.

Tom sat on the teacher's desk and started massaging the bridge of his nose with his right hand, already fed up.

"Whoo catfight" Isodor Avery snickered across the room. Thorus Nott shook his head, a warning look in his eyes.

"Isodor shut the fuck up." Orion Black turned to face the two girls "We don't care about your boys problems."

The two Slytherin girls blushed. They exchanged an embarrassed look. Milton Mulciber cleared his throat : "Ok, if it's not Macnair then it must be Rosier."

"Mate, you can't just randomly accuse someone like that." Antonin Dolohov said.

"Of course it is convenient for you to discredit Milton when he is accusing Rosier." Abraxas Malfoy spoke up.

"I don't see your point." Antonin Dolohov replied.

"It's a public matter that the Rosier and Dolohov families are thick as thieves." Abraxas Malfoy rose an eyebrow.

Grace sighed loudly, annoyed with the entire situation.

"Aren't we supposed to be here to sort out who stole the phial ?" Grace arbitrated, irritated.

"That is exactly what we are doing Hortense, if Edgard has the phial, Nicolas Rosier has one step ahead." Abraxas Malfoy told her.

"So I was right, it's Rosier" Milton Mulciber stated.

"For once in my life, I agree with Mulciber." Belone Macnair retorqued bitterly.

Belone Macnair had not been really involved in the debate before her agreement with Milton Mulciber. As soon as the words escaped her mouth, Milton Mulciber looked at her, oddly. Her family was not known for getting on with his own, so it was quite the shock.

"And as expected Macnair accuses me !" Edmund Rosier laughed scornfully. "And no one hears her blaming somebody else, like, I don't know, Lestrange. Oh wait, their families are in business together."

"Shove it Rosier. Find someone else to be the scapegoat." Edgard Lestrange barked.

"No need, I have the culprit in front of me."

"Oh really ? Because I don't see you looking at a mirror !" Milton Mulciber uttered mockingly at Edmund Rosier. "You definitely need the potion to please your daddy."

"While talking about daddy, how's yours Parkinson ? Still kissing Tuft's ass ? Maybe they are already organizing your wedding ! " Orion Black provoked Cassandre Parkinson.

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 12

ORION BLACK

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that made the important families want a piece of the cake.**

"While talking about daddy, how's yours Parkinson ? Still kissing Tuft's ass ? Maybe they are already organizing your wedding !" Orion Black provoked Cassandre Parkinson.

"So he can talk about his love problems but we're not allowed to ?" Galatis Carrow asked Tom, childishly.

Orion Black seized the opportunity and spat at the prefect : "Oh we're asking Riddle questions now ? Let me ask one : where did you put it ?"

Tom pushed himself from the desk he was sitting on. He took one step.

"Why would he need it ?" Milton Mulciber defended his friend.

"Yes Black, tell us. Why would I need it ?" Tom asked, emotionless.

"Well, apparently it is a political matter. We may have…" Orion Black showed the people in the room with open arms "... all a reason to steal the phial in order for our family to get more power, but you, Riddle, you have none and you may want some."

Grace laughed loudly from her place. The entire room stared at her.

"Are you listening to yourself Black ? Are you really believing every word you just said ?" She snorted. "Power may come from money and connection but you are the living proof that's not enough. True power comes from knowledge. And who's the prefect here ? Not you Black. Who's the top of the class ? Again. Not you Black."

She leaned and whispered loudly : "Guess daddy's power couldn't buy you a shiny badge."

Walburga Black had a maniac laugh.

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 11

WALBURGA BLACK

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would make them reconsider their alliances.**

Walburga Black had a maniac laugh.

"Look who's talking ! The crazy one." She snickered. "Still on edge ? Haven't you slept well last night ? You don't need to answer love, the bags under your eyes answer for yourself."

Grace chuckled, and it irritated Walburga Black even more.

"We all know each other from birth, our parents know each other from birth too and so on and so on. But you Hortense, we don't know a damn about you. And you're the only here with a real reason to steal it. What would happen to you if Rosier succeeds ?" The eldest Black continued.

"Why are you talking about Rosier ?" Grace winced.

"Don't you know ?" Antonin Dolohov sneered. "The Rosier are for _the greater good_."

Walburga Black looked at Antonin Dolohov and nodded at him. He nodded back, as if they knew in advance this was going to happen.

"And why would I need the phial ?" Grace asked. "It doesn't make sense."

"Yes it doesn't make sense !" Edgard Lestrange parroted. "You are just proving us Walburga that Rosier needs it more than anyone else, well maybe except for you."

Walburga Black's eyes opened widely. "Me ?"

"Yes you !" Isodor Avery interceded. "Come one Walburga, we are all aware of your wedding."

"Why would my sister need the phial for her wedding ?" Cygnus Black wondered.

"Because she's been dating Cassandre for the last year." Belone Macnair yelled, dropping a bombshell.

The shock was unanimous.

"Well, the cat is out of the bag." Cassandre Parkison sighed.

"Now were are talking about secrets Belone ?" Walburga Black reacted to her friend intervention.

"You wanted a reason Black ?" Isodor Avery resumed. "Here's one. Now hand over the phial."

"Can't you be more wrong Avery ? She does not need any phial, she was not the one mad about the wedding, was she ?" Orion Black turned toward Cassandre Parkinson.

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 10

CASSANDRE PARKINSON

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would make them reconsider their friendships.**

"Can you be more wrong Avery ? She does not need any phial, she was not the one mad about the wedding, was she ?" Orion Black turned toward Cassandre Parkinson.

"Don't start Orion !" Walburga Black ordered.

"Yes ! Do start mate !" Pax Zabini laughed. "Best. Potion. Class. ever." He snickered with Cygnus and Avery.

Cassandre Parkinson was shaking lightly, from anger. He knew what Orion Black was going to use as arguments against him and he already wanted to punch him in the face.

"Or maybe it's because of your brother, Parkinson." Orion Black declared.

"Don't you dare talk about my brother."

"And why not ? He is not here to defend himself. And where is he ? Oh yes, he got injured during the last Quidditch match because he is a part of the team. And you're not. Come on Parkinson, you can tell us you stole the phial, we're all ears and we won't rat you out to your brother. Maybe Mulciber is your accomplice. After all, between two second-to-the-heir you should help each other."

Milton Mulciber sank into his chair, embarrassed.

"Don't put Milton in the middle of it. " Thorus Nott defended his friend.

"And lad don't talk about Pollux when he is not here." Edgard Lestrange added.

"Yes let me talk about him. He won't be able to play the next game, so maybe you and your teammate need it." Orion Black stopped there.

"Wow, it's between Cassandre and yourself Orion. Don't forget it." Edgard Lestrange reminded the Black heir.

"You're right Lestrange." Orion Black smiled. "I'm going to marry your girlfriend Parkinson and there is nothing you can do to prevent it, and the little phial is not going to help you so turnover the phial."

Cassandre Parkinson shoved Orion Black repeatedly. The latter punched him in the face making his nose bleed.

"Stop !" Galbanda Greengrass shouted.

None of the two boys obeyed. They kept going on to the point that Orion Black was on the ground being hit by the younger Slytherin.

"Parkinson ! Black !" Tom arbitrated. The two boy stopped. "You all sit down and no one talks."

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 09

ABRAXAS MALFOY

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would put them in the middle of a cold war.**

They were all sat in silence. Their position in the classroom reflected perfectly the tensions. Edgard Lestrange who was sat next to Edmund Rosier for the past five years was on the opposite of his friend. Belone Macnair and Walburga Black were 10 feet apart. Antonin Dolohov and Abraxas Malfoy weren't even looking at each other in the eyes.

Tom was leaning on the professor's desk, his arms crossed upon his chest. Next to him, Grace was still sat on her desk, facing the entire class.

At the back of the room, Isodor Avery, Cygnus Black and Pax Zabini were grinning altogether, apparently delighted with the situation.

Walburga Black was desperately trying to get Cassandre Parkinson's attention, but the latter was too busy sending killer stares at Orion Black to even notice.

Thorus Nott was focused on Grace, analysing her every move as if he was trying to solve a riddle.

Milton Mulciber had not risen his head since Orion Black's attack on him. His eyes were stuck on his knees and he was playing nervously with his fingers.

Galatis Carrow was fixing the clock on the wall, worried.

Antonin Dolohov finally turned his head to watch Abraxas Malfoy. As soon as he saw that the blond Slytherin was sat next to Galbanda Greengrass he snorted loudly.

The Malfoy Heir faced him. "Something you want to add Dolohov ?"

"We are not going back there" Tom cold voice, cut them.

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 08

ISIDOR AVERY

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would encourage them to fool the others.**

"We are not going back there." Tom cold voice, said.

"So what do you suggest ?" Isodor Avery asked casually.

Tom pushed himself from the desk and walked towards the middle of the room.

"Everyone ! Put your bag on the table." The prefect demanded. Everyone did exactly what they were told. "And now, you search."

"It is too easy to search through your own belongings." Isodor Avery argued.

"Ok, then your neighbor search your bag." Tom was pissed.

Isodor Avery knew this look. When Tom was about to get mad he always had the same piercing stare. So the boy shyly rose his hand.

"What now Avery ?" Tom allowed him to speak.

"It is too easy to put the phial in your neighbor's bag." Everyone looked at him "If you are guilty."

Isodor Avery rose up. "Does anyone think that I am guilty ?"

The silence that followed, answered the question.

"Thanks ? I guess." He started walking to the front of the class and grasped Galbanda Greengrass bag before putting it on Slughorn's desk. "Just to let you know, I could have done it if I wanted to."

"Avery…" Tom's voice was getting deeper.

"I'm just saying". The other answered raising his arms innocently.

The search did not last long. It was in none of them.

"So what now ?" Belone Macnair asked Tom.

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 07

BELONE MACNAIR

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would make them reconsider every decision they ever made.**

"So what now ?" Belone Macnair asked Tom.

"Now we go back to the beginning." He replied, as evidence.

The class had started as usual, Slughorn had given the instructions and the students had begun brewing for two hours.

Milton Mulciber and Grace went first in the storage room to look for fairy wings. They were gone for less than a minutes.

"Milton and Grace went to the storage room !" Galbanda Greengrass declared.

"But we came back fast !" Milton Mulciber defended himself.

"Who went next ?" Isodor Avery asked.

Tom and Thorus Nott were the next. They stayed a little bit longer but came back with more ingredient than the two first one.

"We did." Thorus Nott simply said. "Then Lestrange went there. Alone."

Belone Macnair stared at the boy, suspiciously.

"Yes I went there alone, but only for thirty seconds tops. It doesn't mean anything." Edgard Lestrange replied.

The last couple of student who went back there were Antonin Dolohov and Pax Zabini.

"Then Zabini and Dolohov. You were the last one to get in there." Galatis Carrow described.

"So to sum up the only people in here who had access to the phial are Mulciber, Hortense, Riddle, Nott, Lestrange, Zabini and Dolohov." Cygnus Black stated. "This reduces consequently the field of possibilities."

"You're forgetting something." Thorus Nott said, fixing Grace. "Hortense and Mulciber went back there twice. Why's that ?"

Milton Mulciber looked as he was searching at the bottom of his memories.

"It's my fault. I messed up my potion, I did not know what to do so I went to see Grace and she helped me. Then we went back there to retrieve new ingredients. That's all. Nothing to fuss about." The short boy explained, rapidly.

"Actually, the only real suspects here are those who went twice or alone in the room. So Mulciber, Hortense and Lestrange." Isodor Avery recapitulated.

It seemed like the room quite agreed on this statement, except the defendants.

"Wait ! It's not because we went in there twice that we stole something ! We were two in there, we couldn't have stolen it without the other seeing it." Grace declared.

The entire assembly turned towards the same person.

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 06

GALATIS CARROW

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would point towards a scapegoat**

The entire assembly turned towards the same person.

Edgard Lestrange.

"What ? Wait !" The latter barked, indignant.

"Well, everything points to you !" Edmund Rosier acknowledged.

"You fucking traitor !"

Galatis Carrow was not at ease. She had known the two Quidditch players for years and had never seen them this angry at one another. She could feel that the others were also troubled about the situation.

"We don't have time, we all have other things to do. Lestrange give me the phial." Tom ordered.

"I. Don't. Have. It. How many times would I need to tell you before you start finding the real culpable ?"

"Look mate, we've only been in this room for 9 minutes, and it feels like it's been hours. So we don't care why you took it, just give it to us, we won't tell Slughorn." Pax Zabini explained, tired.

"What don't you understand in I don't have the ph…"

"Just give it ! We won't even give your name !" Abraxas Malfoy almost shouted.

Edgard Lestrange put his hand on his face, exasperated.

"You're the only who could have done it ! You went there alone !" Walburga Black yelled, upset. "If not you, then who ?"

The question was a rhetorical one but it did not stop Milton Mulciber from whispering what would bring chaos in the room, again.

"I still think it's Macnair."

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 05

CYGNUS BLACK

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would bring chaos.**

The question was a rhetorical one but it did not stop Milton Mulciber from whispering what would bring chaos in the room, again.

"I still think it's Macnair."

After that, hell was set loose.

Cygnus sat comfortably in his chair and witnessed his classmates tearing each other apart. He couldn't even distinguish who was yelling at who, it was only noise, accusation, and chaos.

Even Tom, the master of composure, had started blaming.

After one minute, Cygnus Black thought his head was going to explode. He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

After chaos, there is always silence.

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 04

EDMUND ROSIER

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would reveal their true colors.**

After chaos, there is always silence.

Edmund Rosier could hear his heartbeat in his chest. His hands were still clenching Edgard Lestrange's collar. He let go of his former friend.

They were all staring at each other, in a terrifying silence.

They were all recalling what they've just heard from their friends' mouths.

They were all trying to think, but they were too upset to do it properly.

"Let's start again then." Tom breathed.

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 03

GALBANDA GREENGRASS

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would make people start talking.**

"Let's start again then." Tom breathed, for himself out loud. "Let's assume Lestrange is innocent. Where does Slughorn keep his private potions ?"

"Third shelf on the right." Antonin Dolohov answered, involuntarily.

All the Slytherins turned to face him.

"Let me stop you right there before you start assuming things. I got a detention three days ago and I had to organize this very room..." Antonin Dolohov justified.

"Yes, so you would have know exactly where to find it." Pax Zabini cut.

Galbanda Greengrass smiled. She knew from the beginning that Antonin Dolohov was too eager to point fingers to be innocent.

"And it was you who started accusing people." Grace applauded. " _Bravo ! Belle performance_ _!_ "

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 02

THORUS NOTT

(WE HIGHLY RECOMMEND TO LISTEN TO GOODBYE BY APPARAT FROM NOW ON)

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would make people start doubting.**

"And it was you who started accusing people." Grace applauded. " _Bravo ! Belle performance_ _!_ "

Thorus Nott was not one to blame easily. He liked having all the facts. He liked analyzing them. And then, once he was sure, he would feel entitled to point fingers.

That was why he kept mostly quiet during the last thirteen minutes. And that was why he was analyzing his suspect words and posture.

"...you are crazy !" Antonin Dolohov spat at her.

"You've tried to fool us by accusing everyone else other than yourself !" Orion Black intervened.

"Who would accuse himself ?"

"See ! He didn't even deny trying to fool us !" Grace laughed.

It clicked in his head.

"Hortense ! Shut your…" Antonin Dolohov started.

"It's Hortense." Thorus Nott finally accused.

* * *

26.10.1942

MINUTE - 01

PAX ZABINI

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would make people do stupid things.**

"It's Hortense." Thorus Nott finally accused.

Grace turned around, the confusion was visible on her features. " _Quoi ?_ " (Trad : What ?)

"Don't even try. I know it's you. I've been analyzing you from the very beginning" Thorus Nott stated, calmly.

"She is smart enough not to steal... So evidently" Tom snorted

"You've been analyzing me ?! If you kept watching my every move, how could you have had all the facts about the others in the room ?"

Thorus Nott closed his eyes.

"But I don't even have a reason to have stolen it !" She almost screamed.

All eyes were on them.

"Yes Grace you have every reason." Thorus Nott replied, calmly. "Maybe you're not as skilled as we think and you need it for class, maybe you need it for revenge or maybe y-you.. And maybe, your friend…"

"Don't." Grace said, quivering a little, but with some much coldness in her voice that Pax Zabini felt shivers down his spine. He had never heard someone that desperate.

"...maybe you think, that with a little luck, not all your friends are dead."

Grace rose abruptly and headed towards him, ready to curse him. She shoved Pax Zabini who was standing in her way.

The classroom's door opened.

* * *

26.10.1942

TIME'S OVER

 **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article. One that would make people see the truth.**

Slughorn entered the room precisely fifteen minutes after he left. The tension in the room was so dense that one's could cut it with a knife.

Fifteen students turned around and faced the professor. Two of them were still glaring at each other.

A phial dropped to the floor and broke at the same time.

Tom stayed stoic.

Antonin was surprised that it was not Abraxas.

Edgard smirked in front of the proof that it wasn't him.

Milton looked at Belone, still not quite sure it was not her.

Orion did not believe it.

Walburga sent an apologizing smile to Cassandre.

Cassandre accepted the smile.

Abraxas glared at Antonin, a haughty smile on his face.

Isodor couldn't accept the truth.

Belone gave a pointed look to Milton.

Galatis gasped.

Cygnus couldn't trust what he was seeing.

Edmund closed his eyes.

Galbanda grabbed Abraxas' hand.

Thorus realized he had gone too far.

Pax dropped the phial.

"Well Mister Zabini, I guess we need to have a little chat." Horace Slughorn declared.

* * *

26.10.1942

 _ **The Daily Prophet had, this morning, released an article.**_

 _ **One that explained the sudden demission of the Minister of Magic, Leonard Spencer-Moon.**_

 _ **One that detailed how he did not take Grindelwald threat seriously and was obliged to step back.**_

 _ **One that gave the most important wizarding families in England a chance to step up.**_

 _ **One that would give every fifth-year Slytherin a reason to steal the vial.**_

 _ **One Hermione knew would create suspicion between the students.**_

 _ **The Daily Prophet had,**_ _ **this morning, released an article. One that helped Hermione Granger steal the Felix Felicis.**_

 _Step 4_ _: Done._

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE : Hope you've got all the information.**

 **Yes, our Hermione was the thief all along.**

 **Is it the right phial which broke ?**

 **\- Agara**

 **DDM's Managers**


	6. BROTHER

" **Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

Thoughts are written in Italics

Big line : New POV

"OoOoOo" : Same POV / Time lapse

 **CHAPTER SIX : BROTHER**

 _Song : Brother by Matt Corby_

* * *

10.11.1942

"I'm going to show you around Gracie ! You're going to love it ! Did you know this is the only wizard town in all Great Britain ?" Milton said to Hermione enthusiastically.

They were walking alongside to reach Hogsmeade. A thin layer of snow was visible. Hermione put her scarf back tightly around her neck. She reminded herself to look surprise once they arrived. She saw, on the horizon, the little town.

Once in the main street, Milton raised his arms and shouted "Tada !". She smiled. "First we going to join the lads ! They should be at the Three Broomsticks !"

Hermione sighed, exasperated.

"Come on Gracie ! Just for one drink, you won't even have to talk to him. And then I'll show you around !" Milton put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it lightly. She nodded.

They resumed walking towards the bar. "Have you started your Divination essay yet ?" He asked. She gave him a panicked look and he laughed.

"We should probably drop the class. We're rubbish at it anyway."

"Do you think we can drop it before our OWLS ?" She asked him.

"Already surrendering Hortense ?" She heard.

She rose her head and saw Tom smirking and leaning against the wall of the Three Broomsticks, along with Thorus. The rest of the group arrived at the same time as they did.

"You should see her level Tom, there is nothing much she can do except surrendering." Milton snickered.

"Milton !" Hermione gently shoved the short boy.

"Nice to finally see you bad at something !" Thorus said, honeyed.

"Sorry I keep my Felix Felicis for my others classes." She answered coldly.

Everyone, except Hermione, winced.

"Come on Grace !" Isodor told her.

"You know what, go get you drinks I'll walk around. Somewhere he is not." She turned around and walked by herself through the shops.

* * *

10.11.1942

Isodor sighed heavily and gave Thorus a side look. The latter got a little upset.

"I know, I know !" Nott said while entering the pub.

The others followed. They all sat in their usual booth. Tom was in the middle between Dolohov and Rosier. In front of him, Thorus was brooding. None of what was happening seemed natural.

On any other day, they would have sat and started immediately talking. Milton would have cracked the same joke about wanting to drink alcohol and Isodor would have laughed at him. Lestrange and Rosier would have started arguing about their favorite Quidditch Team. Malfoy and Dolohov would have talked about politics and their families business.

But today was different. The last two weeks have been different.

If they were in a different house, everything would have been different. First, their head of house would have never allowed them to sort out the problem behind closed doors. Secondly, the aftermath would have been different.

In Hufflepuff, this would have never happened.

In Ravenclaw, they would have sat calmly around a table and talked through it.

In Gryffindor, they would have fought but at the end they would have forgiven each other.

But they were in Slytherin. And in Slytherin you don't talk about the problem, you keep your arguments in a compartment in your head to use it later, as leverage. You never forget and forgive but you act like you did. The Slytherin way is all about power.

They were all sat around a table at the Three Broomsticks. From outside this inner circle, the Slytherins seemed normal, talking to one another and laughing. But Tom knew better.

 _Look at you, sons of powerful men, wealthy and proud._

 _Look at you, the elite of England, speaking several languages, with the finer education._

 _Look at you, acting all grown up and yet being childish._

 _Look at you, giving me the opportunity to rise._

"Finally we have some boys time !" Antonin announced, cheerfully.

Thorus was awfully quiet. Isodor saw him, brooding, and talked to him : "Mate give her some time. After all, what you've told her…"

"I know, I know !" Nott cut him, coldly. "I've apologized a thousand times !"

 _Do not apologize Nott. You have done a wonderful job, without me suggesting it beforehand._

"Thorus, you have crossed the line. Deal with it." Malfoy intervened.

"You should try and talk to her again. Maybe she will change her mind." Tom suggested.

Thorus stood up.

"That's a terrible idea ! Give her some time! !" Milton tried to reason his friend.

"Two weeks is enough. Look at you, you have all forgotten about it right ?" Tom smirked.

He felt the boys tensed.

Thorus stood, finished his drink in one go and left the place.

* * *

10.11.1942

Hermione sat down on her usual stool, took off her coat and scarf and smiled at Aberforth. He poured her usual drink and looked at her.

"Ok sweetheart, what's wrong ?" He asked

"Nothing, everything's fine ! What could be wrong ?"

"Still not talking to Nott ?"

"And you, still not talking to your brother ?"

"Touché !"

She gave him a knowing look.

"Do you want me to beat him up ?" He smiled.

She laughed.

"Maybe it's a little violent and he is like twelve."

He was about to give her the bottle for her to pour her own drink when he turned his head towards the entrance door.

"Tell me sweetheart. Does this Nott has brown hair and looks like a lost puppy ?"

"Yes why ?" She chuckled.

"He is here. Go hide in the bathroom. I've got you."

She took the bottle and rushed in the first bathroom. She leaned on the door, closed her eyes and took a sip from the bottle. She smelled the odour of smoke. She opened her eyes and saw a tall boy, his back at her, taking a piss and smoking a cigarette.

He turned his face once, the fag still on his lips, and did not acknowledged her. He turned his face a second time, and then realized she was standing there.

Hermione was staring at his back, embarrassed. She took another sip. It seemed like he didn't care she was there. She heard him zipping up his fly. He took his glass, finished it and turned around.

He took a good look at her but still did not open his mouth. They stared at each other for a good thirty seconds. He had a light smirk on his face revealing his amusement. Hermione was flustered.

He was smoking, she was drinking.

He got close to her, nicked the bottle from her hand and poured himself a drink. He turned around and leaned on one of the sink, located on the left.

"So, who are we hiding from ?" He asked and showed her the sink opposed to his with his head.

She nodded, and before accepting his proposition to sit in front of him, got her bottle back.

"A prick. " She answered, detached.

He took the last drag, dropped the cigarette on the ground and stomped on it. "You should be even less precise."

 _Nice of you to think about Aberforth._

She snorted.

"Just tell me if you're hiding from Aberforth because you stole a bottle."

"Why would I do that ?"

"So I can sit more comfortably and witness him kicking your ass."

She smiled and took a mouthful of firewhiskey.

"Should you even be drinking ? You're like, what...twelve ?" He continued.

She laughed out loud remembering Aberforth saying the exact same words a few minutes ago. She stared him, defying look in her eyes, and choked a huge sip.

From the way he acted, he quite reminded her of a young Sirius Black. His entire look seemed perfectly messy, from his disheveled hair to his light scruff on his face. His eyes were as dark as his hair and had this glint of mischief, the same she saw disappear in Fred's eyes months prior. Her heart clenched a little at the thought. She took another sip.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be ?" She asked.

"Already trying to get rid of me ? You're wounding me kiddo." He responded carefree, grinning.

An easy silence settled.

"Actually, I'm only here for the free booze." He said while taking the bottle, once again.

"It's not free." She snapped, taking it back.

"Well, you're not of age to drink it." He nicked it again.

"Neither are you !" She looted it back.

Someone knocked on the door. Hermione held her breath. He and her shared a look and didn't move.

"Grace ?" They heard.

 _Did he really follow you there ? He is unbelievable, he just can't take a hint._

She recognised that voice and closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them back she saw him still staring at her, wondering what he could do. She realised she still had the bottle in her hand, she quickly gave it to the boy standing in front of her. He looked at it, as panicked as she was, he gave it back to her.

"You keep it !" He mouthed.

"No you ! You wanted it."

It went one for a couple of more seconds.

"I'm coming in !" The voice said.

Hermione took the bottle, and gave him a sign to let him understand that the person at the door should not come in. He nodded.

"No don't come in ! I'm not feeling well mate."

"Pollux ?"

 _Pollux ? It rings a bell._

"Thorus ?" Pollux asked.

"I'm looking for Grace, have you seen her ?"

Pollux turned around and looked at Hermione.

"What do I do ?" He mouthed.

"I'm not here !" She mouthed back.

"Grace Hortense ? Haven't seen her !" Pollux said to Thorus.

"Ok, see you around mate."

Pollux and Hermione heard the Slytherin go away.

"So, the prick we're hiding from is Thorus Nott." He concluded.

"Yep." She said. "Thank you." She continued sincerely.

He handed over his right hand and presented himself. "Pollux Parkinson, at your service damsel in distress."

She took his glass, filled it with the alcohol and smiled.

"I'm the one with the bottle, I'm your life saviour here." She told him while giving him back the drink.

They looked at each other, a small smile on their faces, rose their glasses. "Bottom's up."

OoOoO

He laughed so hard he almost spilled his entire drink on the floor. He reached for his cigarettes in his jacket, lighted one then replied to what Hermione had just said.

"You're so full of bullshit kiddo !"

She leaned more comfortably and defied him with her smile.

"It was not that hard you know."

"Well if it's not that hard, as you say, how come you ended up being a cat. I was going to ask you for your help. We have to brew polyjuice potion in sixth year. But I am really reconsidering it. "

"Oh ! You really don't believe I can brew a perfect one ? Let's do it right now then !" She laughed.

She tried to rise up from her seat, but the alcohol in her system made her lose her balance.

Hermione steadied herself with the sink.

"It takes a month kiddo !"

"Another reason to start now isn't it ? First step, we need a cauldron !" She replied.

Pollux was staring at her, in high spirits. Hermione opened her little purse.

"Where did I put it ?" She continued.

"You're fucking kidding me. You're looking for a cauldron in that bag ?" Pollux mocked her.

"How dare you mock my precious bag ? This bag is more valuable than your entire life Pollux !" She smiled.

"Valuable ? Well that's not really complicated. But is it as pretty as me ? I do not think so madam."

She laughed hard. "You are putting yourself in a competition with a purse, do you have no self confidence Pollux ?"

She kept seeking for the cauldron in her bag but only came across other objects.

"Fuck ! Oh there's a broom in there ?" She spoke up to herself, surprised.

"A broom ? Show me your bag !"

"What ? No !" She protested.

Pollux looked at her, perplex.

"Grace, I know you like taking the piss out of me, but if you do so, be reasonable. Look at the size of your bag, it's impossible you have a broom in this."

"Merely impossible ! Have you heard of an undetectable extension charm ?" She answered proud.

At this moment she was not playing the Grace Hortense act. She was herself, Hermione. She liked talking to him, it felt as it was natural and that she was her old self.

 _It feels good doesn't it ? It's the first time in months you've lost track of time._

Pollux looked at his watch. "Well kiddo, we should probably get out of here. I know I told Nott I was not feeling well but I wouldn't want people to start imagining disgusting things."

He stood up and helped her rise. She first left the bathroom and got to the bar.

"Grace ?" She heard Aberforth say. "You were in there ? It's been an hour, I thought you've left."

She smiled, put the empty bottle on the counter and gave him money.

"That's too much just for the bottle sweetheart." The bartender told her.

"Pollux's drinks are on me. And keep the change Abe."

The exchanged a last smile then she left the bar.

Outside a freezing wind was blowing, but Hermione did not feel it. The alcohol made her feel warm and bold. She started walking in the streets.

 _Let's fucking find Riddle now._

She saw him with the lads looking at brooms. Hermione got closer to them, confident. She arrived at their level.

"Well !" She said.

They all turned around.

"No way !" Edgard laughed.

"Merlin, you go Grace !" Isodor outbidded.

"Is she … ?" Abraxas started.

"Drunk." Tom declared.

Hermione stood straight and looked at them incredulous.

"I'm not drunk ! I'm just…" She started.

"Drunk. Definitely drunk." She heard a voice behind her.

She turned around and saw Pollux, standing there.

"Shut up." She laughed.

"This is not appropriate language for a twelve year-old, kiddo. Isn't it past your bedtime too ?"

She shoved him lightly. "Is it how you talk to the girl who paid for your drinks all day ?"

She saw in the corner of her eye Thorus looking at Pollux coldly.

"You thought my company was free ?" Pollux smiled.

She snorted loudly. "I guess that's how you became rich."

Pollux's friends gave him a sign for him to tag along.

"I'll see you tonight right ?" He smiled.

He didn't gave her the time to ask about what was supposed to happen tonight that he was already gone. A silence settled between the lads and her.

"You're friends with Cassandre's brother ?" Milton asked.

 _Oh ! That's why his name rang a bell !_

"You didn't know him before ?" Edmund asked.

 _Wait.. Did you just say that at loud ?_

"No, I've just met him." Hermione answered.

"In the bathroom right ?" Thorus commented bitterly.

Tom smirked.

"How come you were served alcohol ?" Milton inquired.

"I don't reveal my secrets that easily Milton." She replied, giving a small look at Tom. "Can someone tell me was is suppose to happen tonight ?"

"Haven't you heard ?" Isodor putting his arm around her shoulder. "It's only Slytherin"s biggest party of the year."

The two of them started walking back to the castle.

The walk from Hogsmeade to the castle had hepler her sober up. Inebriation had been replaced by sleepiness.

* * *

10.11.1942

Tom had given the lads a meeting at 8:15PM, in a old classroom on the fifth floor. As he walked down the hall, he made sure no paintings were in the hallway. He could not risk them telling other person about those meetings.

Tom was avoiding them whereas Grace was interest in them. He had seen her, looking at paintings as she was analysing them.

He arrived in the room. The seven boys were waiting for him.

They were all sat around a circular table. The chimney behind them was about to put out. The atmosphere was perfect according to Tom. They were all staring at him, waiting for him to talk, to move, to do anything. He liked the power he had over his "friends". He liked the way they looked up to him. So he cleared his voice and started talking.

"Good evening lads. Thank you for coming tonight. I suppose you are all wondering why I called you here..."

Tom looked at them, the seven pair of eyes were focused on him, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"... So let me start first by saying that I do not have much time for speaking and that secondly today is a time for speech rather than action. But do not worry lads, this time will come.

We are all aware that the wizarding world is changing. Maybe us more than anyone else. All of your families work towards the same goal even if maybe not together. We have too, a responsibility. A role to play to make our wizarding world brighter.

Newspapers had announced Spencer-Moon's departure, if we may say. Newspapers had announced all of your families interest in taking his place. But the newspaper had praised your common competitor.

Yes, thousands of wizards and witches are, at this very moment, reading the article about the magnificent Wilhelmina Tuft. And where are your parents in all of that ?

Where does this "free press", as they call themselves, come from ? They come from their owner. Every newspaper has a master, and it only answers to him. This press, which is absolutely submissive, molds the public opinion. And it is our duty to give the public opinion its freedom back.

If the real, and only suitable candidates cannot succeed all by themselves, isn't your responsibility, as heirs, to help them achieve their goals ?

So thank you for coming tonight lads. Let's build a brighter future together."

They were all mesmerized by his speech. Hanging on every words Tom had just said. Analyzing each sentence.

 _Hook. Line. And sinker._

* * *

10.11.1942

Isodor had left her at the entry of Hogwarts, claiming he had to grab something by the kitchens.

She entered the common room. The Slytherin's colours were proudly display throughout the tapestry, the couch, the rags. The entire room was well lit thanks to the huge chimney and dozens of candles, suspended in the air. At the back of the room, a wizarding radio was broadcasting music. Foods and drinks were spread on a large table. People were chatting; laughing, and for the braver one, dancing in the middle of the room. Hermione didn't quite understood right away what was happening. Then she saw a banner : "Happy Birthday !"

She walked among the students and looked around her. She had never thought she would one day find the Slytherin common room welcoming. But, in this particular context, it seemed like she belonged there. She took a bite from a cake and poured a self a drink.

"Pax would have love this party. He was good friend with Cole" Belone spoke.

 _He was just expelled, not dead. Stop being dramatic Belone._

"I still don't understand why he did it." Hermione lied.

Macnair shrugged.

"I like parties. It changes. People seem to have fun don't you think ? " Galbanda Greengrass entered the conversation. "Especially at Woodcroft's ones. There is always something happening during those."

"Last year Cassandre and Walburga got together for instance." Belone explained.

"Woodcroft ?"

"Cole Woodcroft. He is over there." Belone pointed to a tall blond man on the other side of the table talking to his friends. "Sixth year. It's his birthday."

Cassandre interrupted their conversation. He stood in the middle, grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey, poured a drink and grinned at them. "Evening Ladies."

He drank one sip, turned to face Belone. "Have you seen Walburga ?"

The girl was slightly uneasy. "She is supposed to be here somewhere."

"Has she talked to you about me ?"

"Not to me at least. You should as Rosier. He just arrived." She pointed to the fit boy with broad shoulders. His light brown hair was perfectly styled.

Hermione turned her head towards the entrance of the common room and saw the eight boys stepping in. She frowned.

 _Has it already started ?_

Thorus headed directly towards her. He had spotted her from the moment he set foot in the room.

 _Oh no. Not again._

"We need to talk." He told her, determined.

"Not now." Hermione answered, annoyed.

"When then?"

"When I'll want to."

Hermione saw something in his eyes. The guilt she had seen for the last couples of weeks had transformed into frustration.

"You're not the only one who has a say in this" He said, bitterly.

She scoffed.

"But I'm the only who should."

As she left, his jaw tensed, his fists clenched so he took the nearest bottle of alcohol.

Hermione was talking to Isodor, a glass of firewhiskey in her left hand, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head and saw Pollux, grinning.

"Easy kiddo. That's some strong stuff." He took her glass and replaced it by a bottle of butterbeer. "Here, that's better."

Isodor chuckled. "How do you know each other anyway ?"

"She just wanted to check my, hum... how to say it..." Pollux replied.

"There was really nothing to check out actually." Hermione snickered.

Isodor began laughing.

"Burn !" Cole Woodcroft said as he passed by.

Pollux turned around and tried to whack his friend's head but missed. Cole, who witnessed the move, flipped him off. The birthday boy put a arm around Pollux's neck.

"So who, in this room, has not seen your "business" ?" Woodcroft teased.

"And me who thought I was the only one." Hermione intervened, faking sadness. "Happy birthday by the way."

"One year older, yet not smarter." Pollux mocked.

The latter got shoved in the ribs. A boy, older than Isodor, approached Pollux and whispered in his ear. "Mate, your brother is getting fucked up."

As soon as he heard the words, Pollux exhaled loudly and slightly turned his head and looked for someone in the assembly. Hermione tried to follow his gaze, but the room was too crowded to see who he was looking for. She saw his jaw get tensed, and the frown of his eyebrows.

Abraxas and Tom got close to them. Malfoy patted Isodor on the shoulder to make him come with him. Tom, for his part, stayed.

"Butterbeer ? Is your head still hurting from your afternoon drinking Hortense ?" Tom told her.

 _Well done Hermione ! You almost screw everything up this afternoon by drinking. What would have happened if Pollux hadn't interrupted you in Hogsmeade ? What would you have done ? Punch Riddle in the face ? Though he deserves way more than that._

He had one hand in the pocket of his pant and the other one held a glass. A light smile was visible on his lips, one filled with contempt. He was wearing his school uniform, the slack and the shirt. And even if he was the only one wearing that, he fit the atmosphere.

She knew from the way he was looking at her that he expected an answer from her. So she just smiled and ignored his silent plead.

"Tom, I hope you're not on prefect duties tonight." Cole asked a rhetorical question.

Riddle rose his glass and shook it lightly. "Not tonight Woodcroft."

Hermione took back her glass in Pollux's hands and replaced it by the bottle of butterbeer she was holding. "I see you're serious about your position Riddle."

"You're the one to talk about seriousness kiddo." Pollux re-entered the conversation.

"Shove it Pollux." Hermione rose her eyes, playfully.

She saw, from the corner of her eyes, Tom's lips pursed. He was looking strangely at Pollux, as he was trying to resolve a difficult math equation. Pollux opened his mouth to replied, surely sarcastically, but a loud noise from behind them interrupted him. The entire group turned around and faced Belone Mcnair and Milton Mulciber arguing.

"Shut up Mcnair." Milton spat.

"Oh you don't want to talk about how a disappointment you are to your entire bloodline ?" The girl snickered.

"Shut up !" Milton's fists were clenching from anger.

Hermione thought about intervening, but Pollux held her by the arm. She wondered at this moment how he knew what she was thinking, but she was glad he did.

"Filthy words coming out of a filthy mouth. Denniston wouldn't be proud. How's your brother by the way ? Are you still in his shadow ? If you can call his entire existence bright."

Milton took a step forward but Antonin grabbed him by the shoulder. "Walk away Milton."

"She…" The smaller boy started.

"Walk. Away. Milton."

He obeyed. An unsettling silence spread in the room. On the other side of the room, someone turned the music a little louder, trying to cover for the awkwardness of the situation. Only just seconds after that, everyone resumed talking, as if nothing had happened. She chuckled silently.

 _Slytherins…_

Tom started talking with Cole.

 _He is really good at faking interest._

She was analyzing him. The way he talked with ease, but still thought about very words that escaped his mouth. The way he looked directly in the eyes of his interlocutor, but still watched her discreetly. The way he seemed to listen to what Cole was saying, but still paid attention to every conversation around him. He was good at playing the part.

"Too late to hide now." Pollux leaned closer to her and smiled those words.

It took more than a second for her to understand but apparently less than one for Thorus to start talking to her.

"You know what Grace ? "We" don't need to talk. I need to talk. So keep your mouth shut if you want, but I won't. I shouldn't have said it that way. I know I fucked up, but you know what I was not the only one to think that !" His breath smelled like firewhiskey and his eyes were a little blurry.

"Th-They were too !" He rose his hands towards invisible people. "Everyone was ! But I was the only one brave enough to say it loud ! Should have said it a different way ? Yes. Do I regret saying it ? I did, but I don't anymore." He was struggling to get the words out as fast as his mind worked.

 _Where is it coming from ?_

"Because I'm your friend Grace. And friends tell each other the truth of their mind. And I'm-I'm the only friend you have who's not dead…"

"Mate…" Pollux and Tom said at the same time.

Hermione was shocked and confused by Thorus speech. The Thorus of two days ago, who waited shyly and patiently for her to talk to him was not the one standing in front of her.

 _Where is it coming from again?_

She saw Tom at this moment. He flinched when he realised he had said the same thing as Pollux, as if it was something he had not planned.

"You !" Thorus pointed his finger at Pollux. "You little shit…"

"Calm down right now Nott. You're stinking alcohol, you're making a fool of yourself, so if I were you I would go to sleep." Pollux got defensive.

She gave Tom her glass, turned away and got up to her dorm.

She slammed the door violently behind her.

 _Fuck him. Fuck him._

She was feeling hot, not knowing if ti was coming from her anger or the chimney in the room. She took off her jacket. She walked towards her trunk, she opened it and put the cloth on top of others. She looked behind her to make sure no one entered the room. She got closer to the wooden container. Even if she knew she had put wards in her box, she had to make sure everything she hid was still there. She got on her knees and started searching through her belongings. And here it was.

The crystal phial.

 _You didn't have a choice Hermione. You had to._

The moment she had step a foot in the potion classroom she knew what she had to do.

 _You didn't use Milton Hermione. He is already bad at potions._

In the middle of the lesson, she had got closer to Milton's cauldron, faking needing an answer from his potion partner. She had, in her pocket, berries. Ones she knew would not be fatal, but she knew would messed up his potion so he had to ask for her help. She had smiled when he came to her, like the good friend she was supposed to be.

 _You are a good friend Hermione. Maybe even if you hadn't screwed with his work he would have messed it up anyway._

They had gone to the storage room. She had told him what he needed to take in order to fix his brew. He had gone to the other side of the room.

 _It was the perfect time to do it. You had been quick Hermione. You should be proud._

It only had taken a few seconds for her to put down the wards Slughorn had put up. It was unbelievable to witness such an important potion without strong defensive spells around it. Milton had smiled when she had gone back to the classroom. Cassandre had stormed into the room, yelling nonsense at Walburga and Orion. This had not been planned. But it was even easier for Hermione. Slughorn had come back furious from the storage room.

 _So it began. You had chosen the perfect day Hermione. Knowing exactly when this article would come out. Reading that much old newspapers in your timeline was useful after all._

Hermione had witnessed something she had not imagined. She had known it would bring dissension, but not that much. She had just sat on her desk, intervened when she knew would be the perfect moment for. When Isodor had checked the bags she had smiled. She had been aware it would come to this eventually. That's why she had kept the phial in her purse, around her neck.

She had known someone would accuse her, maybe Walburga or Dolohov. Even Tom she had thought. But not Thorus. He had been the flaw in her perfect plan. Or she thought. But he had just given her the opportunity to put the wrong phial in Pax's sleeve. Harry's one. The one she had kept in her purse, hoping one day it would be useful. She had gotten closer to Nott, shoved Pax, slipped the wrong phial in his shirt, and cast a wordless sticking charm.

 _It was perfect Hermione. Pax was just collateral damage._

Hermione exhaled loudly, trying to stop the memory to flow back. She was feeling guilty. Pax had been expelled. She knew one day it would come to this, so she had chosen the one she barely knew.

 _Sorry Pax._

She took a deep breath, put the phial back in her trunk and headed toward the exit.

Hermione was walking down the stairs, her mind still remembering the events from the previous month but loud voices brought her back to reality. The two men, because those voices could not belong to women, were trying to whisper but the heat of the argument didn't allow them to do so.

"F-Fu-Fuck you !" One yelled at the other. He was so drunk that he struggled to heat the insult out.

"Cass..." The other one started.

She recognized that voice. She had been hearing it all day long. She had heard that voice joyful and laughing before, but now it was dull and cold.

"Fu-Fuck off Luxie. leave m-me a-alone."

Hermione didn't know if the mistake in Pollux's name was due to the alcohol or was on purpose but Pollux's face looked rather odd in reaction to the nickname. His eyes became sadder and swallowed loudly, as if to restrain to comment on it.

"Are you going to stay here, drunk as a skunk, and wallow in self pity over a girl ?" He decided to say at last.

Hermione got a little bit closer, just so she could see what was happening. Cassandre Parkinson was sat on the floor, a bottle of elves wine in his left hand. His older brother, Pollux Parkinson, was standing in front of him. The latter extended his hand and waiting several seconds in that position. Cassandre drunkenly slapped in had, refusing to get up.

"Fine ! Stay here !" Pollux said. "Drown your futile sorrows."

"Futile ?" Cassandre asked appalled. "Futile ?" He repeated, louder this time.

"Yes futile ! She is just a girl, and a bitch to be honest. So yes your problems are futile Cass. Grow the fuck up."

"Oh s-sorry Mister the perfect Heir of the P-Par-Parkinson family if my futile problems don't compare to your royals one."

"Fuck off Cass."

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Something was not right. The tension in the air didn't belong to two brothers, but rather to two acquaintances who had to save the face in front of others but secretly hated each other. There were too many secrets, too many unsaid things, too many missed opportunity to get along better.

She remembered what Orion said in the classroom, the way he had undermined Cassandre's authority putting Pollux above his little brother. As she looked at the youngest Parkinson, she not only saw a heartbroken drunk kid but also the weight of being the second child on his shoulders.

Hermione had never realised how hard it could be for a second-to-the-heir on a daily basis. She thought about Milton for a second. His fight with Belone only earlier in the night. How being born later than someone else became the worst insult someone could throw during a fight.

She got even more closer. If one of them turned his head to the right they would probably see her in the shadow of the stairs. But she didn't care, she was captivated by the conversation taking place in the corridor heading to the boy's dormitories, or rather by the unsaid things.

"Are you gonna stand there or are y-you gonna leave m-me the fuck alone ?" Cassandre slurred after a painful silence.

"I should leave you alone considering everything. But I won't. You're not fine Cass and as your brother I just can't leave you like that." Pollux explained, sincere.

"Oh now you're playing the b-brother card. Save this role for when mum and dad are around."

Pollux exhaled loudly. He looked tired, like this argument was recurrent between the two Parkinson and he was sick of it. He stepped back and leaned on the wall.

"Aren't you tired of this Cassandre ?" He asked solemnly.

The other boy drank a sip of wine for an answer.

"Merlin, we can't talk with you !" Pollux concluded.

His little brother finally stood up. He put his empty hand on the wall to avoid himself from falling. "No Luxie, you just don't know how to talk to me and I guess it's now too late for you to learn."

Hermione saw Cassandre getting closer to the door so she hid in the dark corridor. The fourth year Slytherin got in his dormitory, slammed the door so violently behind him that it opened again and staggered away.

Hermione, on the ball of her feet, approached. Pollux's face was lit by the moon's light, his cheeks seemed hollower and his eyes darker. He looked older, like this argument was so old and so rehashed that it showed on his features. He quickly rose up when he saw her, put the pain away and smiled as if nothing had happened. She only had to give him a shy smile for him to understand that she had witnessed what had just happened.

She handed him the glass of firewhiskey she had in her hand. He grabbed it and smiled.

"You'll be the death of me kiddo."

* * *

10.11.1942

This morning Tom had been waiting with Thorus in front on the Three Broomsticks. They were both leaning on the wall, hands in their pockets and talking about transfiguration. They have been standing there for the past 10 minutes while the other members of their group were watching brooms across the road.

"... all this fuss for brooms ?" Thorus grinned.

Tom snorted. He turned his head to the right and saw Milton and Grace coming their way. He smiled lightly to himself.

"Have you talked to Hortense yet ?" He asked casually.

Thorus stopped laughing.

"She doesn't want to talk to me. I'll give her more time." He said, blasé. "I can understand why, I've gone too far."

"Have you ?"

 _First, doubt._

Grace and Milton were laughing while walking, Thorus saw them then turned his head towards Tom.

"Of course I have. First I've accused her of stealing, then told her she needed it to be good in classes and finished by assuming that with some luck not all of her loved ones are not dead !" Thorus said, getting angrier at himself by the second.

"You could have been right. Wouldn't you want luck if your friends were dead ? Wouldn't you want luck to prove yourself if you had arrived in a new school ? You would have all the reason. And I would have understood why you would have done it." Tom seemed to be reassuring. "You were right to point it out. She had all the reason. You were, apparently, the only one brave enough to say it out loud. Why would you take the blame for a thought everyone in the room had ?".

 _Second, anger._

Thorus gaze changed.

"You thought about it too ?" Nott asked.

"I know they did." Riddle answered, giving a head sign towards the boys still looking at the brooms.

Thorus nodded lightly. "And why no one had said anything ? They were all blaming each other, but no one dared to accuse her. I did ! I'm the only one in this entire fucking class who stood up and told her."

"You are a good friend Thorus. You are a good friend to her. You were the only one to tell her what you were thinking. They are all faking it. Look at Milton, he laughs with her, but he did not have the courage to tell her. You did. Maybe she doesn't want to hear what you want to say to her, but you need to tell her anyway. Make her listen Thorus. Be the friend she needs."

 _And third, action._

"...you think we can drop it before our OWLS ?" He heard Grace tell Milton.

"Already surrendering Hortense ?" Tom smirked.

 _Let's play round 2 Hortense._

 _ **Rule n°3 :**_ _You do not get to run from the situation._

 _Let's see how you get out of this one._

* * *

 **Authors' note : Hi everyone ! Sorry we took so much time to upload this chapter. **

**One of us just moved to Paris so it's quite complicated to write using FaceTime. We won't be able to upload as quick as we did for the first 5 chapters. But don't worry we're not planning on stopping !**

 **Thank you all for your wonderful reviews. It warms our heart to read them :)**

 **Love**

 **\- Agara**

 **DDM's Managers**


	7. CLUB

" **Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

 **CHAPTER SEVEN : CLUB**

Thoughts are written in italics

Big Line : New POV

OoOoOo : Same POV / Time lapse

 _Song : Club by Lomepal_

* * *

15.11.1942

"I've contacted one of the editor at the Daily Prophet, no article about anyone other than Tuft is going to be released in the two weeks to come." Thorus explained, standing, both of his hands resting on the wooden table beneath him. "Unless something important happens."

In front of him, Edmund Rosier shifted awkwardly.

"Is your father going to do something _important_ Rosier ?" Abraxas sneered.

 _Not again._

The latter opened his mouth, ready to spat at Malfoy but Antonin put a hand on his shoulder from stopping him do to so. "No. You don't need to answer."

Then Tom clapped his hands, slowly and loudly. The seven boys stopped talking.

"Well done boys. And me, who thought, you could put your families quarrels aside for more than…" He checked his watch. "24 minutes. I can honestly say that you are progressing. Last time you had managed only twelve minutes. If you keep that pace maybe in a month or two we will be able to have a normal conversation for more than an hour."

Tom knew they all valued his opinion, and he could see at this moment in their eyes the shame he had brought upon them.

"Thank you Thorus. You are the only sensible one here today it seems. Your information is very valuable and instead of provoking Rosier about his father's behaviour, maybe if all of your fathers did something _important_ the same day it would force the Daily Prophet to actually write something about them."

They all nodded, understanding perfectly what Tom was implying. It was nearly lunchtime so Tom dismissed them. The eight Slytherins took their bags, and left the room. The seven boys were walking in front of him. It took a couple of minutes to reach the big arteries of Hogwarts from the room they held their meeting. Abraxas and Dolohov seemed to have lost their mutual resentment.

They all turned to the left, in the main corridor.

 _Well, look who is here._

* * *

15.11.1942

They had run into each other couples of minutes prior. She had been walking down the halls in order to get to lunch whereas he had got out of his transfiguration class. Once he had seen her, he had taken her by the arm telling her that he would escort her to her destination.

"Kids under 13 years old are not allowed to travel on their own kiddo." He had told her.

They now arrived in the main hall. Students were running in every direction and it was quite hard for the both of them to get through those waves of kids.

"Have you read the last article from Dedal Sphields ?" Pollux said.

"The one about protective runes ? Yes it was really interesting !"

 _Wait a few weeks and you'll see that everything he wrote is wrong._

She took a quick glance to her right and saw Isodor and Edgard. She knew the other boys were not far behind.

"What are you wearing tonight ?" She heard Milton ask not far behind her.

"The emerald green cashmere robe my great uncle just sent me from Paris. And I was wondering about the dragon hide shoes. Should I wear the grey tie or the black one ?" Abraxas wondered. "What about you ?"

"Well… I just wanted to change my shirt … ? I'm not so sure now..."

Hermione smiled to herself.

 _Please never change Milton._

"Milton ! You should make an effort for merlin's sakes. If you keep not taking it seriously Slughorn is not going to invite you again."

 _Come again ?_

"And you are taking it too seriously ! It's just some poshy dinner !" The small boy retorqued, offended. "It's the fourth since the beginning of the year ! I didn't bring that much fancy clothes."

 _The fourth ? They've been to four dinners ? Four fucking dinners ?_

 _Please don't tell me that you're talking about the Slug Club._

 _Please don't tell me that you're talking about the Slug Club._

 _Please don't tell me that you're talking about the Slug Club._

"You are well aware of the club's dress code." Abraxas concluded.

 _Fuck._

 _What are you going to do ? Think Hermione for fuck sakes._

Hermione started to panic.

 _How come it had started already ?_

 _How come you're not invited ?_

 _Who did Slughorn invite ?_

Her heart rate sped. Her fists were clenching. Yet, she still walked as if everything was fine.

 _How come tonight is already the fourth dinner ? How come he had already hosted four and still didn't invite you ?_

Her eyes were focused on the end on the corridor. Her palms were a little sweaty. Yet, she acted as if everything was fine.

 _You've been here for two months, busting your ass to get invited in those fucking parties and yet you're not getting in !_

She was mad and confused. She had thought the day Slughorn would decide to plan his first dinner she would be at the top of the guest list.

"Ok, you're not listening." Pollux told her.

"Sorry what ?" She rose her head to meet his eyes.

He laughed. "What were you thinking about kiddo ?"

"Nothing ! Let's go eat, I'm starving."

 _Hermione, you need to get things done._

Pollux left her with a smile at the end of the Slytherin table. She sat down next to Milton.

"Hi Grace !" Isodor greeted her.

"Hi ! Haven't seen you all morning, what have you been up to ?" She replied to all the lads, a knowing smile on her lips.

"Just playing Quidditch." The boy answered automatically.

 _Sure you were._

She nodded casually as if she was believing his lies and she knew she was convincing in doing so. She took a small bite from her plate.

Thorus, in front of her, seemed quite focused on his shepherd pie.

 _Do you think he still feels guilty ? Of course he does._

 _Use it._

"Thorus ?" She asked. "I'm going to study History of Magic tonight, would you like to tag along ?"

He rose his head and swallowed loudly.

"Hum.. I can't tonight." He gave a quick look at Milton. "I have a dinner."

 _Of course you do. I guess all of you do._

 _The question real is : why are you not invited Hermione ?_

OoOoOo

19.11.1942

 _Four days._

 _Fours days you've been wondering why you were not invited to the Slug Club._

 _Four days you've been trying to find out why._

 _Fours days, and you're still fucked._

Binns was rambling in the background. His stern voice was putting each Hufflepuff and Slytherin to sleep. She was sitting in the middle of the room, next to Belone, who was napping soundlessly. An heavy rain was pouring outside and dark clouds were announcing a storm in the next few hours.

She stared at the papers in front of her. The doodles were here. The same one she drew a couples of weeks ago : "s" shaped but bolder and larger than the last time. She quickly got rid of the quill she had in her hands. She didn't even realise she had been drawing them.

OoOoOo

19.11.1942

Isodor sighed loudly, his eyes still focused on the charm book in front of him. Hermione rose her head and looked at her friend. She didn't know if she had to speak up and help him or just ignore him. She opted for the latter and went back to her own homework.

 _Does Slughorn think I am too damaged by the war to go out in public ?_

Isodor sighed. Again. She stopped reading and cleared her throat. He rose his head, smiled and carried on. She wondered if she helped him with his homework would he be keen to speak to her about it ? So, she whispered his name.

OoOoOo

19.11.1942

Her stomach had been rumbling since 9AM. She had gotten a part of her appetite back, not enough to eat a proper meal though. She knew Milton had two free periods right now, same as her. She headed down the common room and found him sat on the couch, reading a novel. Once he saw her, he rose to from his seat. She knew he would be up to for an early lunch. So at 11:35 AM they went to the Great Hall. The giant room was almost deserted. They sat down in front of one another, he took a bite of chicken.

 _Well Milton, time to talk._

OoOoOo

19.11.1942

Mr. Wink, the charm professor was explaining the wand movement for the silencing charm. In front of her, Cygnus and Isodor did not seem to listen to a word he was saying. She leaned slightly towards them in order to catch up on what they were saying. It was mainly about Quidditch, girls and brooms.

She looked around her, seeking a reason to ask them a question.

 _Maybe you should add a Black to your informer's list._

OoOoOo

19.11.1942

Thorus was quite surprised when she sat down next to him in Runes. He weakly smiled, afraid to screw up again by talking without thinking first. She responded to his smile. She felt he was uneasy and she knew he still felt guilty about what had happened. He would do almost anything for her to forgive him completely. So she seized the opportunity.

 _Let's see Thorus. If you give me valuable information, I might reconsider my anger towards you._

OoOoOo

19.11.1942

 _Four days._

 _Fours days you've been wondering why you were not invited to the Slug Club._

 _Four days you've been trying to find out why._

 _Fours days, and you're still fucked._

She settled behind her usual telescope. She liked astronomy classes, watching the stars and thinking. She was used to having Isodor next to her during this lesson, so when she heard someone sitting besides her she said, sarcastically "Tonight, you're gonna listen and not copy off my note, _chaton_."

" _Chaton_ ? You are calling Avery "kitten" ? Tom mocked.

She turned around abruptly and blushed lightly.

 _Maybe if you obliviate yourself you might forget you called, by mistake, Voldemort "kitten"._

"Where's Isodor ?" She asked, nonchalantly.

"I asked him to switch seats with me." He answered honestly.

 _Why ? He's never sat next to you before._

"Fine. Suit yourself." She settled for, faking indifference.

He adjusted his equipment, took a parchment from his bag then leaned comfortably in his chair.

"Still wondering Hortense ?" He spoke up.

"What ?"

"Come on. Don't play naive. You have spent your entire day questioning, not so subtlety if I may add, the lads. "

She gave him a pointed look.

"You thought you were subtle ?" He chuckled. "You might need to reconsider your moves Hortense."

She kept glaring at him.

"And yet you have missed asking the right people."

He got quiet for a few seconds, building the suspense or just enjoying seeing her this confused.

"You talked only to boys about it. Were your female friends not available for your interrogation or have you not even thought about sharing your interrogation with the fairer sex ? And me who thought you were not stupid. If you had asked them, they would have told you that they were not invited to our little gatherings either."

She felt stupid. They were in the forties and Slughorn was quite old school.

"And to be totally honest, I am hurt you did not come to see me. I thought we were friends Hortense." He mocked her.

 _Friends. Yeah right._

"Friends ? We barely talk." She spat.

"And you want that to change ?" He smirked.

 _That is not part of_ _The Plan_ _._

OoOoOo

20.11.1942

She would have never thought she would be glad she had talked to Tom. She felt quite conflicted about that, but he had given her the answer she had been looking for for days now. She knew she had to do something to get Slughorn to invite her. But what ?

Last night, when she had got up to her dorm and crawled under the sheet but she had not been able to sleep. Her brain had been mulling over it. In spite of getting a good rest, she had a little idea of what she could do to get it.

During her first period, Divination, she had ordered a special gift for Slughorn via the Owl Post.

While working on her brewage, in her two hours potions class, she had smiled at the professor, more than she usually did. She also had laughed louder at his lame jokes and praised his humour.

At lunch, she had got closer to the professors' table and had given the large potion teacher an article she had found intriguing and that might be interesting for him. He had thanked her, talked a little and gave her a little tap on the shoulder.

Tom was watching her, and he had his peculiar smirk on his face. It seemed as he was enjoying seeing struggling to get in. She tried not to get bothered by that.

OoOoOo

23.11.1942

She went to the Great Hall for breakfast. She sat next to third-year slytherin girls. None of the boys were there yet. She took an apple from the silver plate in front of her, poured a glass of pumpkin juice and waited. Tom arrived first. He sat right in front of her and filled his plate in silence.

Hermione heard flapping. She rose her eyes to the enchanted ceiling and saw Owls entering the big room. An elegant brown bird dropped a package before her eyes. She delicately took the box, fed the owl and the animal went away.

"Fancying crystalized pineapple ?"

It was the first time one of them talked in the last five minutes. She looked at him, not sure what to answer.

"Funny, those are Slughorn's favorite. What a coincidence." He continued, impassible.

He drank a sip of tea. "One could believe you have something in mind."

 _Keep teasing Riddle._

"How slytherin of me." She replied.

He smirked.

She finished eating, if anyone could call an apple a real meal, just when the other boys entered the room. She gave a quick smile at Milton and Isodor and headed towards the door.

OoOoOo

23.11.1942

Two hours of transfiguration had been the longest Hermione had ever experienced. Whether it was seeing Dumbledore parading in front of his students or just learning the same subject she worked hard on a couple of years ago. He gave them an essay to write.

"Wait up !" The professor had said. "Do not forget the essay on animagus for mid december. I am giving you plenty of time, so I am expecting some quality."

Just remembering this, Hermione sighed. She liked transfiguration, at least when McGonagall was teaching it. She had weeks to complete this assignment and she had more important business to get to for the meantime. She took her bags and walked down the halls. She turned left, into a deserted corridors.

Slughorn had not been reacting the way she had hoped this past week, so she figured she had to make her own luck. She opened her bag, ready to take out the bit of enchanted parchment, when she heard his loud voice. She rose her head and saw Slughorn strolling in front of her alongside another student, a seventh year Gryffindor.

 _Speaking of the devil._

"Good morning Professor !" She smiled.

"Good morning Grace ! How are you doing my dear ?" He cheerfully answered. He gave a nod towards the older student, dismissing him.

Hermione waited a couple of seconds just for the Gryffindor to get far enough.

"Did you know that this student, Heslphius Hemsdale, had been spotted by the Puddlemere United ? Apparently they just signed a contract for next year, but it is still a secret, they ought to let go one of their other players. You didn't learn it from me." She winked.

The way he smiled hearing the gossip brought satisfaction to Hermione. They chatted for a little bit longer, then she headed towards her theoretical defence against the dark art lesson.

OoOoOo

23.11.1942

Hermione tried to focus on her potions, but she kept sending quick glances at Tom. The minute he had entered the classroom he had seen the open box of crystalized pineapple on Slughorn's desk. Even though he had known from the minute the owl dropped the box this morning that she would use it as a gift to their potions' professor, he still looked quite surprised. Had he imagined she would gave it to him later ?

Without Snape as a professor she found potions to be a relaxing subject. Of course, being 3 years older than anyone else in the room and mastering each potion perfectly certainly helped too.

Two hours after the class had officially started, Slughorn asked them to bring their phials to him. The crystal containers started filling his desk. Hermione took as long as she could to thoroughly clean her table and bring him her potion. She wanted to have time alone with him, laugh a little, and give him the hint that she knew about the club and that she wanted to get in. But apparently Tom had decided that his potion lab needed to be immaculate too.

 _What a coincidence._

There was just the three of them now. He had a light smile on his lips, but his amusement turned into taunting.

"Professor !" He declared. "Thank you so much for the last dinner, it was a very pleasant evening. I have just received the invitation for the next gathering. I wanted to offer you some of your favorites treats, crystalized pineapple as a gift, but apparently you do not need more."

He shot a knowing looked at Hermione.

He got closer to the door but turned around just before leaving. "Just to be sure sir, it is the last dinner before your annual christmas party, isn't it ?"

"You're quite right Tom." The professor smiled.

Just before leaving the room Tom winked at Hermione.

 _Well, time to bring out the big guns._

* * *

26.11.1942

"She is a half-blood mate. Respect yourself." Edmund chuckled.

"A girl is a girl Rosier." Edgard replied.

Tom rose his eyes to the sky, already bored by the conversation. They were sat at the back of the room for their weekly monday class of history of magic. Abraxas, behind him, snorted at their conversation.

Edmund turned around. "Oi Malfoy ! You don't have a say in this conversation."

The blond boy raised an eyebrow, wondering what his friend meant by that.

"You're soon to be married, you're already dead in the game." Edgard explained.

"More girls to us then." Milton smiled.

"That's right Milton. Go get them, ace." Isodor patted him on the shoulder.

They kept going like that for the next ten minutes before one of the lads began talking about Quidditch.

Tom turned his head to the right, in the direction of Grace. He was used to her listening to every words they were saying even though she tried to be discreet. But today she was too focused on her book to even acknowledge them.

Tom realised the class was over when Thorus, next to him, rose from his seat and started gathering his belongings. He heard Edmund telling the lads about their Quidditch practice and inviting them to see the team. Rosier even turned around and asked Grace, but she politely declined by telling him that she needed to go to the library. After that, she left the room.

The eight Slytherins directly steered to the Quidditch pitch. Despite the thick fog covering this part of Scotland, Edmund and Edgard seemed thrilled to play. A small boy, barely 12 years old, shyly approached Tom as he was walking in the corridors.

"Excuse me." The little boy whispered.

Tom lowered his gaze. The boy appeared impressed by Tom's stature. He glanced at him but quickly looked the other way.

"Yes ?" Tom replied in a steady voice.

"There is a problem on the first floor."

Tom frowned his eyebrows. He gave a little nod to the lads and followed the first-year on the floor above. Once he arrived, he saw Peeves bothering a group of young Ravenclaws.

"Peeves, you know I will not hesitate to call the Bloody Baron." The prefect spoke up.

Peeves turned his head towards him, shrugged and left the boys alone. The way that Peeves didn't protest more gave Tom the hint that he was up to something. He didn't wait for the boys to thank him that he was already following, discreetly, the ghost. He arrived in front of the library, quickly scanned the surroundings and found no trace of the poltergeist. He followed the only path he could take : the library. He pushed the door open.

The smell of parchment and old books tackled his nostrils. He stepped into the room. Students were working on their essay, on the right, study groups were gathered to talk about transfiguration. And where Grace was supposed to be, she wasn't. She had the habit to sit on the left corner, next to the window. Even if it had been only a couple of months since she arrived, Tom knew she would not change her seat.

He had already forgotten about the Peeves' issue, and was now trying to figure out why she had lied. He walked around the library, just to make sure she was not seeking for a book. And, as he had predicted, she was not.

He headed towards the exit to join the lads on the Quidditch pitch.

 _She is up to something. Well, I already knew that. But let's be honest, her behaviour had been rather odd for the past few days._

Tom had expected her to follow Slughorn like his shadow the past weekend in order to get in. But she didn't. She had had her head down her books all saturday and sunday, declining every invitation to hang out each of her classmate had made her.

He was walking alongside the courtyard now, a light rain wetting his hair.

Tom had not expected her to give up that easily.

He shook his head.

She did not give up. He was sure of it. She was always disappearing somewhere. He had noticed that each wednesday night she was nowhere to be found. It was not as if he had looked for her, but he had wondered about her whereabouts. And the fridays. Every friday, they all had a free period right before their double potion class, and every friday, she fled somewhere no one knew where.

Since the moment he had seen her in the great hall, on the 2nd of May, he had known she hid something. Her story was not coherent.

He couldn't deny the fact that she had lived through a war.

He couldn't deny the fact that she was more experienced than everyone their age.

However, he couldn't help but notice her attitude towards the deputy headmaster.

 _He is supposed to be the only one able to defeat Grindelwald. So why does she resent him ?_

He couldn't help but notice that she appeared to know Hogwarts quite well for someone who had just arrived.

 _It took me more than full year to know this castle. How come she manages to find her way that easily in only three months ?_

Tom arrived on the Quidditch bleacher and sat next to Milton. The shorter boy asked him about what the first year wanted and Tom briefly explained, his mind still focused on his french classmate.

 _I know she is a spy._

OoOoOo

26.11.1942

Tom left the astronomy tower. The sky had cleared and the full moon was visible among the stars. A chill breeze passed through the trees below them and produced a dreadful noise. He put both of his hands in his pocket to warm them and started going down the stairs.

"Didn't you fancy switching seats with Isodor this week Riddle ?"

Grace was walking next to him. He found it strange because she had not spoken a word to him in the past three days.

"Why would I do that ?" He asked.

She gave him a look he had never seen before. She seemed puzzled.

"We are not friends Hortense." He continued.

"You're right." She replied. He saw realisation in her eyes, not anger or disappointment, just true awareness.

She gave him a quick nod and joined Milton. He did not know what to think. First, he just realised he had been harsh to her not that he minded, and second, she didn't seem to care at all.

OoOoOo

27.11.1942

Tom woke up earlier than usual. He got up and went to the bathroom to get ready. Once he got back to the dormitory, his roommates were all soundly asleep. He, of course by inadvertence, dropped his shoes on the floor, producing a loud noise.

"The fuck !" He heard Isodor shout at the opposite of the room.

Tom smiled. He liked bothering them.

On his way out, he slammed the door behind him.

"Fuck you Riddle !" Antonin screamed.

Tom grinned.

He made his way to the dining hall were Abraxas and Grace were eating. The silence between them was frightening. Tom figured that they had sat in front of each other by habits rather than by wish.

He sat next to Malfoy and started eating. He liked the fact that none of them talked. He didn't need to be bothered early in the morning. The blond boy just started his second plate of scrambled eggs when Grace just finish her small bunch of grapes.

 _Still not eating I see. She ought to eat more._

Minutes passed and not a word had been said. Their peaceful, as Tom thought, breakfast got interrupted by the daily mail delivered by the owls. A copy of _The Daily Prophet_ dropped right beside his plate. Abraxas got a few letters from his family members.

And for once, Grace got something other than her morning paper. She had correspondances.

 _This is new._

OoOoOo

27.11.1942

He stirred his potion clockwise and let it simmer for a couple of minutes.

He leaned in his chair and took a good look around the class. He noticed that Walburga Black was almost at the same stage as he was. Behind him Thorus and Abraxas were more focused on bickering insignificant details than the actual potion.

In front of the class, Grace was silent and concentrated on her work. She had not played her usual role today : no flutter of eyelashes and no exaggerated laugh on lame jokes. Something was not right.

 _How come she went from being Slughorn's pet to this ?_

She was writing notes on a parchment even though it was not necessary given that the professor was sat in silence at his desk.

From this moment on, Tom noticed she did not stop writing for the rest of the class.

 _What are you writing Hortense ? Or who are you writing to ?_

He waited for the students to leave the classroom and gave Abraxas a little nod. The blond Slytherin understood and waited for Tom outside the classroom.

The started walking in the corridors and turned on the left when everyone kept going straight. The passageway was empty.

"What do you have got for me ?" Tom asked him.

"Nothing much since last time." Malfoy answered.

"Are you saying to me that no one answered your letter ?"

"Yes they did, but it matches with what she had told everyone."

Tom got frustrated and exasperated.

"What about the paintings ?" The prefect sighed.

"What about them ?"

"You are supposed to be monitoring her Malfoy and you are telling me you that have not noticed that she keeps talking to the bloody paintings ? You are useless."

He left his classmate in the hallway and went to the Great Hall for lunch.

OoOoOo

28.11.1942

He was alone in the common room. All of his fellow Slytherin had already gone to bed. He was installed in one of the comfortable couch, a copy of _Hogwarts : A History._ He figured out he needed to read it again, he must have missed something.

The door to the common room opened quietly, but, with the silence that was settled in the room, Tom heard it. He moved his head towards it and saw Grace trying to sneak in discreetly.

"It is after curfew Hortense." He said, using his prefect voice.

She jumped a little and but once she saw him, her face became impassive again. She did not respond and headed towards the girl's dormitories stairs.

 _Remember_ _ **Rule n°3**_ _Hortense._

"5 points from Slytherin." He told her with a stern voice.

She turned around.

"You can't do that."

"I am prefect, of course I can."

"As a matter of fact you can't. Only the HeadGirl and HeadBoy can do that. You can only give me detention Riddle."

His jaw tensed and he grinded his teeth.

"Detention then."

She froze.

"Unless…" He dragged this word for a little while. "You tell me where you were."

She descended the step she was on, and started walking towards him, a small smile plastered on her face.

"As if I cared about a detention." She laughed. She stopped in her tracks and they glared at his each other for a couple of seconds before she turned around again and climbed the stairs.

"You'll tell me later when and where I am supposed to go for this detention Riddle." And with that, she disappeared in the darkness.

 _ **Rule n°4**_ : _You do not get to play me._

OoOoOo

30.11.1942

On this friday morning, the sun was shining and the snow on the ground seemed even whiter than usual. Enveloped in a warm coat, gloves and scarf, Tom was walking near the black lake. He enjoyed being alone during his walks, it allowed him to think. And on this friday morning he had a lot a thinking to do.

He looked at his watch and noticed that it was nearly time for his first period : transfiguration.

He sat next to Antonin. They had moved on from Incarcerous even though most of the people in the room were not able to conjure a step 4 rope. They had all year to master it Professor Dumbledore had said.

While writing what the latter was saying, Tom's mind got somewhere else.

Since this summer he had been thinking about it. He had been studying every book, each article ever made on it. He was 100% sure it was somewhere in this castle.

"Tom." Antonin said.

He looked at his friend.

"Class is over." Dolohov continued.

This sort of situation seemed to happen more than usual lately. He nodded, got up and followed his classmate for one hour of theoretical DADA.

Grace came to theoretical classes. She even participated during those. But since the incident in september with Dolohov she had been avoiding practical classes.

Tom knew that she had messed up during this class, she had been overwhelmed and had lost the control.

 _That was your first mistake Hortense._

So there he was, on his wooden chair, a quill in his right hand, and a brain, kilometers away from the class.

This morning he had been also thinking about his meetings with the lads. They were all pureblood, from the most sacred lineage, and yet, when Tom speaks, they all listen.

OoOoOo

30.11.1942

Tom entered the potion classroom and sat behind his usual potion lab. On the blackboard behind their professor was written _Strengthening Solution._ He opened his potions book and looked through the ingredients : salamander blood, powdered griffin claw, ect..

Once every student was sat, Slughorn cleared his voice.

"Now that everybody is here, Slytherin is the house of ambition and cunning and one of you proved everyone that it was true today. I'd like to congratulate Grace for her amazing work on her Runes article".

 _Excuse-me ?_

He rose his head his head and stared at her. She had a modest smile on her lips but he could clearly see that it was all pretending.

"If anyone in this class is familiar with Dedal Sphields work you may know that two weeks ago he released an article about protective runes. And our dear Grace here, had worked for an entire week, day and night if I may add..." He giggled. "In refuting everything he had published."

 _She did what ?_

The professor laughed for a little while.

"Of course I've helped her in her research, I've given her the names she should contact, gave her articles she should study. "

Grace discreetly rolled her eyes, obviously he had not helped as much as he thought.

 _Is that what the correspondences were all about ?_

"... everyone in _Runes Periodical_ had been captivated by it, it will be published tomorrow…"

 _Is that why she had spent her entire week writing ? For this article ?_

"... and that's what I told her ! ..."

 _It still does not explain everything. And why would she write this article ?_

"... That is why she wrote this article. Marvelous."

 _I probably should have listened._

"... Marvelous ! To finish, I am extremely proud to be counting Grace as a new member of my dinner list. I look forward to having you for the special Christmas Party."

He just realised what the professor had said. And Grace looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.

 _Well, you have done it Hortense. I knew you did not give up._

 _You have tried everything to get in. But apparently you figured out that what Slughorn likes above everything is a celebrity._

 _Not one that is ephemeral, like you used to be at the beginning of the summer._

 _And you have become a celebrity Hortense. Well played._

Everyone in the class applauded and she looked proud.

 _But there is still one question left : why did you want to get in the club ?_

* * *

30.11.1942

 _Step 5_ _: Done._

* * *

 **Authors' Note : **

**Hi guys ! So apparently now we take a mpnth to upload a new chapter...**

 **We are going to try to upload sonner next time ! So we're really sorrry for the dealy !**

 **You can follow our Tumblr : agarariddle-andhernachos**

 **Thank you all so much for your amazing reviews**

 **Love**

 **\- Agara**

 **DDM's Managers**


	8. YOUR MAJESTY

" **Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

" **Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."**

 **And he kills her.**

 **CHAPTER EIGHT : YOUR MAJESTY**

Thoughts are written in Italics

Big Line : New POV

OoOoOo : Same POV / Time Lapse

* * *

 **Notes : This chapter is entirely based on the chess game : "The Game of the Century" between Bobby Fisher and Donald Byrne (1956). **

**We have analyzed every move and if you want to check at the same time as you read there as several videos on Youtube.**

 **It took us quite some time to understand what we could imply with every move.**

 **We would like to thanks Jamie (Ara's chess teacher in primary school), without him she would have not had this idea.**

* * *

 _Song : Your Majesty by Lorne Balfe_

16.12.1942

"Black or white ?" Tom asked.

"Black suits you better." She answered.

They were facing each other, across a wooden table in their common room. It was just after dinner, and the students were mainly gathered in front of the fireplace, leaving Tom and Hermione by themselves at the back of the room.

They stayed silent for a little while, glaring at each other. Both of their minds were racing, trying to figure out how it will play out. Then, Hermione took one of her white horsemen, made it jump above the pawn then slid it to the left at the same time as she spoke up: "Knight to F3".

"Starting with a knight ?" Tom smirked. "I would have thought you would have started with a pawn. Knight to F6." His pale fingers moved the piece.

"Pawn to C4."

Tom was staring at the board game, silent. "Pawn to G6."

"Knight to C3." She moved her other rider onto the black square.

"Bishop to G7."

They were surrounded by a peaceful silence. Only the sound of the pieces on the classic chess board game and their announcements could be heard.

"Pawn to D4." Hermione said.

She glanced at Tom's side. She briefly analyzed his pieces and knew immediately his next move.

"Kingside castling." He declared.

He interchanged his King with his left castle, securing like that his most important piece.

 _You're not even surprised Hermione._

 _The first thing he does is protecting his King._

 _Tom, for the first four moves, you've been preparing this one._

 _You're not paying the game. You're just afraid of losing._

She rose her head and saw him already looking at her. He nodded.

 _So it begins._

* * *

16.12.1942

After he nodded at her, she took one of her Bishops and shifted it to F4.

He responded by moving his Pawn forward to D5.

"Have you already finished the essay on animagi ?" He casually asked.

"Already given it to Dumbledore."

She took her Queen between three fingers, gently raised it above the other pieces of the game, as though it was the most delicate item, and placed it two squares forward diagonally, on B3.

 _Already using your Queen ?_

"How come you do not like him ?" At the same time as he asked the question, his Pawn on D4 captured hers on C4.

There was no subtlety, whether it was on his move or on his question.

She bit the inside of her right cheek, apparently, she was not taking the blow well. She stayed still for a second, analyzing the game in front of her eyes.

Once again, she took her Queen, brought it closer to his Pawn, the one on C4, and swapped the two pieces, taking away one of his own.

"How come _you_ don't like him ?"

He didn't know if she had done it strategically or just by retaliation. Yet, Tom could only appreciate the beauty of what she had done.

He took his time to move one of his Pawn to C6. Once the piece down, he looked at her.

"He never seemed to like me." He finally answered.

She rose her head. She appeared surprised.

 _She hesitates. Why ?_

Tom was focused on observing her.

The way her eyes wandered from one piece to another, wondering what would be the consequences of each move.

The way her right hand shifted above the items, without touching them.

The way her breath quickened when she was about to touch one.

Enough with hesitation, she took her Pawn and moved it to E4.

Still in silence, he played his Knight to D7.

The noises they could hear at the beginning of their chess contest were slowly fading away, not that the room was emptying itself, but because the only thing that mattered at this moment, for the both of them, was winning this game.

They were not looking at each other. Their gazes were set on the pieces. She shifted her left rook and slid it to the right until it settled on D1.

It was his turn. He analyzed, once again. He lead the same Knight he used the round before to B6, but before he could put it down, she spoke up.

"Because he does nothing." She simply said.

Tom was taken aback. He stopped, and stared at her.

"He is the only who could do something, and yet he just lets people getting killed." Grace continued.

He acknowledged her response by just putting his Knight down.

* * *

16.12.1942

"You have yet to congratulate me." Hermione said while putting her Queen on C5.

He took one of his Bishop in his left hand, frowned his eyebrow and played with the piece. It took a second before he decided on a square to settle his item on.

"Congratulate you on what ?" He answered.

"Are there that many things I've done you can congratulate me on, Riddle ?"

She had not played yet but she knew she would take her Bishop to G5. She just liked playing with him, as he liked playing with her.

 _You should definitely thank Ron for your chess skills._

He understood that she would not play until he gave her an answer. He snorted.

"Do you want someone else to inflate your ego Hortense ? Slughorn had already praised you enough, hadn't he ? After all, that is why you have done it. Marvelous." Tom mocked.

"Was I that transparent ?" She played her move.

They both smiled and he moved his Knight to A4.

 _A knight on the rim is grim._

"Congratulations." He started.

She slid her Queen across the board onto A3.

"But, if you wanted to go that bad to the Slug Club I could have taken you to the Christmas dinner." He finished while capturing her Knight with his own on C3.

She swapped places between his Knight on C3 with her pawn. "If I wanted to do it the easy way, I would have asked Pollux to take me there. After all he is a much better company."

Their eyes met. With each move they were taunting each other.

"You could have." Tom said. "Be careful however, do not let your guard down too soon."

His knight took her pawn on E4. By taking her pawn, he opened the way for her defeat. Her king was standing, alone, without any protection, and Tom was eager to see it abdicate.

 _Don't be naive Tom. You would never let your guard down, Hermione. Ever._

The candles, suspended on the ceiling, illuminated the chess board. They still had the same number of pieces.

Hers, white and bright, were scattered on the board, trying to get to him from everywhere.

His, black and dark, were centered around his King.

He was focused on preserving the royalty whereas she was concentrated on keeping all of her pieces.

 _Funny how the way one plays chess reflects perfectly one's personality._

She captured his pawn on E7 with her Bishop. The white cleric was standing diagonally to his Queen. Hermione just gave Tom a bait. He had two solutions.

* * *

16.12.1942

 _I have two choices._

His eyes were staring at the board game. He visualized the possible outcomes.

 _If I take your bait Hortense, I would capture your Bishop, make you lose one piece, but I would also be in the line of sight of your own Queen._

 _If I do not take your bait Hortense, I leave your bishop near my King but move my Queen to a safe place._

His eyes were staring at Grace. He visualized the possible outcomes.

 _If I take you bait Hortense, I would listen to every word you say, believe every lie, but I would also be another pawn to you._

 _If I do not take your bait Hortense, I would leave to your plan but I would keep in mind to figure out something to do about you later._

Tom chose the latter. "Queen to be B6". Grace gave him a dark smile, understanding perfectly what his last move meant.

She answered by moving her bishop to C4 leaving, this way, her King alone with her rooks.

Tom dangerously placed his only Knight to her side of the board, by swapping her pawn on C3 by his horseman. He enjoyed taking her pieces, one by one by hand, and putting them right next to his right elbow. It was like removing her defense bit by bit in order to get closer to her secret.

She made her other bishop, the one still standing next to his king, slide to C5.

 _Why did she do that ?_

He focused on the game, frowning his brows a little, analyzing every move she ever made since the beginning of it. She had just given him a perfect opportunity to Check her. He smirked.

"Where are you every Wednesday night and Friday afternoon before potion ?" He solemnly asked. " _Check_." He added while moving his rook one square right to E8, facing directly her King.

She casually moved her king to the left, to F1, where she knew it would be safe. "I don't ask you where you and the lads go once a week for an hour don't I ?" She said, raising her head to meet his gaze, a crooked smile on her lips.

 _Well, look at that._

 _If I knew you were playing the same game all along, we would not have lost that much time._

From that moment on, an understanding settled between them. One that had not been said out loud, or been heard by the others in the room. An understanding allowing them to ask a question if their last move was satisfactory enough.

Tom shifted his other bishop to E6. She had not stopped staring at him. And without even moving her eyes a centimeter, she took her bishop and killed his Queen.

Tom stiffened his jaw but stayed calm. She had taken his second most important piece. Yet, he smirked : the game keeps going without a Queen, but never without a King.

"But I could ask you." She added. Her gaze fell back to the table.

Then, the game sped up. The windmill began.

He moved his Bishop to C4, capturing hers. _Check_. "Why don't you ask more questions ?"

She shifted her King to G1, to be safe.

He moved his Knight to E2. _Check_. "Why being friends with the lads is so important to you ?"

She shifted her King to F1, to be safe.

He moved his Knight to D4. _Check_. "Why did you need to get into the Slug Club so badly ?"

She shifted her King to G1, to be safe.

He moved his Knight to E2. _Check_. "Why are you at Hogwarts ?"

She shifted her King to F1, to be safe.

He moved his Knight to C3. _Check_. "How did you get into Hogwarts in the first place ?"

She shifted her King to G1, to be safe.

 _We are getting nowhere._

He moved his Pawn to B6, capturing her Bishop.

He took a good look at her. She seemed calm. Tom wondered if she was putting on an act or if she was truly serene.

* * *

16.12.1942

The silence settled again. Two rounds passed.

She moved her Queen to B4, he moved his Rook to A4.

She moved her Queen to B6, capturing his Pawn. He moved his Knight to D1, capturing her rook.

Tom had just gained a rook, two bishops and a pawn for his sacrificed queen, leaving him ahead of one minor piece. It was an easily winning advantage in master play. Hermione's queen, on the other hand, was outmatched by Riddle's pieces, which dominated the board.

Tom and Hermione didn't look at each other during those four moves. They kept their eyes on the board and by extension on the other player's hands.

They were so invested in the game, that they had not realized they were the only two left in the common room until one of the dormitory doors slammed loudly.

At the same time they rose their heads. The fire was almost put out. Hermione quickly glance at the mural clock : 9:50PM.

"Aren't you going to tell me off about the curfew Riddle ?" Hermione mocked.

Tom snorted. Quite unattractively.

« And what for ? So I could give you a detention and it would be taken away like the last one ? » He said.

« Why not ? It was quite entertaining, last time, seeing Slughorn undermine your prefect authority. »

Tom saw red, but he tried not to show it.

 _He's too easy to rile up._

Hermione smiled lightly and moved her pawn to H3. Tom smirked lightly and moved his rook to A2, eating her pawn.

Of all his pieces and pawns were defended, leaving Hermione's Queen with nothing to do.

She decided on playing her King to H2. As for Tom, he captured, again, one of her pawns on F2.

There were only a few pieces left. She gently pushed her rook, resting on H1 to E1, now facing his rook. It was almost too easy for him to move his castle to take away hers.

"Do you know the three principles in chess Riddle ?" She asked.

They were both aware that he knew them.

"First, you need to have the control of the board's center. You need to know where the most important pieces are, what they can do and most importantly what they are able to do for the King." She kept going.

Tom did not need a translator to understand the analogy she was beginning to make. The board's center clearly represented the board of professors at Hogwarts.

"The second rule is development. You need to get your Knights and Bishops out, and connect your Rooks. All those pieces need to be interconnected one way or another, and no one in the white army must come in between them." She looked at him, a playful glint in her eyes.

The second rule represented the lads. Tom's right hand started to fist his leather chair, from anger.

"And last but not least, you need to keep your King safe." She stopped for a second and moved her Queen to D8, leaving the white monarch facing directly his black ruler. "Check Riddle."

 _Well Riddle, you're definitely not safe._

"And in order to keep your King safe" Tom replied, "you must be willing to make sacrifices." He put his bishop between her Queen and his King.

Hermione just got the confirmation, once again, that 1942 Tom was indeed the younger version of Voldemort. While Tom was ready to sacrifice one of his most important players, Hermione couldn't resign herself to destroy its life like that. So she backed down, she didn't take his bait and settle on capturing his Rook with her Knight on E1.

* * *

16.12.1942

Tom was sitting straight in his chair. His right hand, was simply placed on the armrest, his left hand, was fidgeting above the chess pieces.

They were both looking at each other, she had a small smile on her lips just after she captured his Rook, whereas Tom was impassible.

 _You think you are so smart Hortense._

 _You think you can outplay me Hortense._

 _But this is my playground._

He lowered his gaze to examine his game. After a couple of minute of consideration, Tom leaned down a bit in his chair. His right hand was now resting on the table, playing with the pieces she had lost, his left was moving steadily over his Bishop. He felt extremely satisfied with what was about to come.

He responded to her move by placing his Bishop on D5.

Tom saw Grace moving her Knight to F3 while he took his own with his left hand.

"You have played chess before. It is quite obvious that you know your way around the board, and the strategic one's could use." He said while shifting the piece to E4. "You are good, I may not say otherwise."

While Tom talked, Grace kept playing, she had just pushed her Queen to B8.

"But you are not good enough." He concluded. He put down one of his Pawn on B5, and the loud noise of the piece hitting the marble board echoed in the empty room.

She stayed focus on the game and moved her Pawn forward H4.

"You think you can outplay any opponent, that you can predict every move he might play and every thought he might have." He played his pawn to H5.

She had not yet risen her gaze. She grabbed, with her right hand, only Knight to E5.

"You assume that your game is smart enough to fool your adversary. That he will fall for your baits." He responded to her move by shifting his King to G7. "You lure him, giving him an easy solution while preparing the deadly move that might lead to the downfall of his own monarchy."

She carried her King to F1.

This time she looked at him. Yet, he was not looking at her. He made his assumptions while staring at the board in front of him a slight smirk on his lips, but not perceptible by Grace. His attitude at this moment reflected his game : confident, playful and malignant. He met her gaze.

"Stop me if I am wrong Hortense." He moved his Knight to G3. _Check_.

She shifted her King to E1, to be safe.

"You know from this moment on, that you will not win this game." He moved his Bishop to B4. _Check_.

She shifted her King to D1, to be safe.

"You think however that you have played well and put me in difficulty more than once. You think you have found an enemy that attain your level of cunning and deceit." He moved his Bishop to B3. _Check_.

She shifted her King to C1, to be safe.

"Yet, he ruled the game when you thought you were in control." He moved his Knight to E2. _Check_.

She shifted her King to B1, to be safe.

"And here you are, losing the game you were so sure to understand." He moved his Knight to C3. _Check_.

She shifted her King to C1, to be safe.

He smiled. Not the usual smirk he often seemed to show, but a real malicious smile was printed on his face. He had both of his elbows on the wooden table and his hands joined. He stayed like that for only a second then leaned back into his chair, resting his arms the armrests.

None of them had declared their move since the first few rounds of the game.

"Rook to C2." He announced and without being touched, the rook moved forward the King. It stops in front of the white ruler and destroyed it to pieces. "Checkmate."

This game had been a wizarding one all along. He had played along with her muggle way, thinking that at first it was to destabilize him. She thought maybe he would feel confused, not knowing that he had been raised in a muggle environment. But he figured it was not a strategy, she had instinctively played the muggle way. "Interesting" he had thought.

"Once again Hortense, you have played good, but not good enough."

* * *

16.12.1942

She was watching the board.

Her King. Her poor King reduced to ruins, scattered to the feet of his enemies, of his Enemy. The King, the man, the savior, the best friend.

 _Harry_

Then the Queen, alone, lost and homesick. Keeping the face of pride in front of the darkness, but as much as shattered inside as the outside of her King.

 _You, Hermione_

Her horseman was facing her. The soldier she knew would never leave. Bravery and courage filling his veins as much as love and friendship filled his heart.

 _Ron_

At least, she still had two Pawns. The two she knew she would lure, she would use, without any regrets or remorse.

 _Slughorn and Dumbledore_

She now looked at his army.

His rook, the one he used to protect him, was surrounded by the pieces of her King. Raising from the ashes of the fallen monarch, the rook took the appearance of one of her worst memory.

 _Dolohov_

The Knight, represented by the beauty of the equine, taunted the loss of her ruler.

 _Malfoy_

She could imagine the laughs of the two Bishops. Like two friends winning the game of the century.

 _Rosier and Lestrange_

And the Pawns, used and manipulated, were still oblivious to their conditions. The Third Estate was pleased by the win, not knowing that they could have as well died that their King would have not batted an eye.

 _Avery, Mulciber, Nott, Slughorn, Dippet_

Then his King. Proud and malicious, praising his own intelligence. The smug smile on his face, the way his body was relaxed by his victory and his head pleased by her silence.

Hermione rose from her seat and took her one of her Bishop from his stack of his wins. "But Riddle, it was only a game."

OoOoOo

16.12.1942

The lads had just left. Some of them, especially Edgard and Edmund had gone to bed, knackered by Quidditch, and others either had gone to the library or for a walk.

Hermione had just picked a book from the library and was sat in one of the couch in the common room. Even though she was bored, she couldn't focus on the novel.

Tom just leaned in the leather chair in diagonal to the couch. He put down the book he was holding and rose his head to meet her gaze.

"Fancying a game of chess Hortense ?" He casually asked.

She shrugged and it was her turn to set the book down.

Out of boredom, they began to play.

* * *

 **Notes : Hope you guys liked it !**

 **After reading the comments, it appears that there are some confusions about the ages of the characters and we apologize for it :**

 **\- Tom (and the lads) are 15 y/o**

 **\- Hermione / Grace is 19/yo BUT looks like 15 y/o (due to the war, under-nutrition…)**

 **\- Pollux is 16 y/o (6th Year)**

 **\- Cassandre is 14 y/o (4th Year)**

 **Thank you guys again so much for your reviews and support.**

 **Love**

 **-DDM's Managers**


	9. DEAR SOCIETY

" **Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

 _And he kills her._

 **CHAPTER NINE : DEAR SOCIETY**

Thoughts are written in Italics

Big Line : New POV

OoOoOo : Same POV / Time Lapse

* * *

 **Note : this chapter cost Ara 400€ (she went to visit me/Aga in Paris) so she really hopes you like it. **

**You can also Venmo her ahah**

 **We strongly advise you to re read chapter 5!**

* * *

 _Song : Dear Society by Madison Beer_

24.12.1942 :

"The main thing is, you bunch of fuckers will not fight. No fucking fighting !" Tom declared angrily.

Tom got closer to Isodor who was laughing with Edmund. Tom pointed his finger at him and the blond boy rose his head and looked at Riddle. "No fighting." The orphan repeated. "And no drinking, you are drunk enough already". He shot an angry glare at Edmund and Edgard, already smashed.

A heavy silence settled between the lads. "Come on Tom, it's a party !" Thorus argued.

Tom turned around to face him. "Come again ?" He asked.

"Well, it's the Christmas dinner. It is supposed to be fun."

"Well Thorus, at least you are right about something : it is the Christmas dinner. But if you think it is supposed to be fun then say that to all of your fathers who are trying to win a fucking election tonight." Tom spun around. "Look at all of you, already drunk and making fools of yourselves."

Tom took a deep breath. "No fighting, no drinking.." He turned around and faced the door to Slughorn's enlarged apartment. He adjusted his tie. "And no swearing."

He pushed the doors open. The flashing lights dazzled them for a couple of seconds. The loud music, played by the jazz band at the end of the room, reached their ears. With his left hand, he took one glass of champagne, drank it in one go, put the glass back on the silver tray and exhaled. "Let's do it lads."

The lads all dispersed. Tom stood straight.

OoOoOo

24.12.1942 :

 _ **Champagne**_

Tom made his way through the crowd, shook some hands, a fake smile plastered on his face.

This Christmas Party was different from the previous year. This year, there was something at stakes. The four candidates for Minister of Magic were present : Rosier, Malfoy, Lestrange and Tuft. That is why tonight was the perfect opportunity for Tom. The perfect opportunity to gather information.

"Tom ! Come over here boy !" He heard Slughorn said to him a couple of meters from here.

He approached a large circle and settled between Rupert Everett, a reporter at the Daily Prophet, and Cole Woodcroft. Next to the 6th Year Slytherin was Pollux, a glass of champagne in his hand. In front of the oldest Parkinson stood Grace. She wore an emerald tulle green dress. Her shoulders were bare and a diamond necklace laid on her cleavage. Her usual wild hair was styled in a perfect bun at the crook of her neck.

"We were talking about Grace's article." Slughorn informed him.

"Do you need me to congratulate you ?" Tom took a sip of champagne. "Once again ?" He finished.

"I would never ask you that. " Grace answered cheekily.

 _As if…_

"And it is not the last piece she wrote !" Slughorn intervened. "You should have heard Dumbledore talking about her essay on Animagi. Marvelous !"

"Thank you professor." She replied humbly.

"You know Rupert" The large professor addressed the only professional in this circle "I remember clearly when she came to me, scared not to be able to hand over the essay on time…"

 _Here we go again._

Slughorn had always had the habit to take credit for helping students on whatever subjects they were working on. Even though the only thing he did was congratulate them once they had done all the work.

Tom looked at Grace, expecting her to look back to share a knowing glance. But she didn't.

Grace and Pollux were already looking at each other, a small smile on their lips.

"If anyone needs to be congratulated it should be me." Pollux intervened. "I taught her everything."

Grace coughed, trying to mask her laughter.

"Come one kiddo, don't be shy. Everyone needs help once in a while." He grinned and took another glass of champagne from a moving tray.

Tom quickly scanned the room and saw the lads talking to several groups of people. He caught Dolohov's gaze and nodded. He focused back on the conversation and found out the reporter got interested in Grace's essay so Tom took the first opportunity to excuse himself and go mingle.

* * *

24.12.1942 :

"I've studied Chapster's theory on Human Transfiguration and his angle on psychological transformation coming along the animagus process." Hermione explained to Rupert.

The reporter seemed invested in what she was telling him. At one point he had taken out of his bag a little notebook. She had smiled internally.

"Excuse me sir." She heard on her left. She turned her head and saw Milton along with who seemed to be his brother.

"Denniston ! Good to see you my boy, how are you doing ?" Slughorn asked the latter.

"Great Professor ! But actually I have to leave your party, I just got an owl from work and I am required over there." Denniston Mulciber explained.

 _Why does he look so familiar ? Have you seen him somewhere ?_

After a last handshake, the oldest Mulciber left the room. Milton came next to her, taking her away from Slughorn's smelly breath.

"I would have loved for you to meet my brother Gracie." The boy said to her.

"Another time." She smiled.

In front of her, Pollux finished his drink, took two glasses of champagne, handed one to her. She kindly refused not having finished the one she had in her hand. He shrugged, downed one of the glass and took the other one in his left hand.

"Care to join me on the dancefloor ?" Pollux told her in a posh accent.

She laughed and nodded.

They moved towards the dancing area and stared at each other for a couple of seconds, strangely silent.

"Why are we taking this shit so seriously ?" Pollux asked.

Without having the time to answer, Pollux finished his drink, took hers and put down them both on a moving tray. They stared at each other, still silent and unmoving. They didn't need to talk. They only needed to dance. 1,2,3, they began.

They were carefree, like two twelve years old, silly dancing, and not giving a damn about what people could think. She laughed at his robot imitation. He smiled at her poor attempt at the Charleston. She put her hands on his shoulder and felt the soft texture of his tuxedo. She could smell his fancy cologne but with a hint of cold tobacco.

Once the song was over, they breathed heavily still grinning.

"I've never seen you laughed before." Pollux told her out-of-breath.

"What ? I have laughed before !" Hermione replied, a hand on her heart, faking being hurt.

"Not like that. You should laugh more often. Another drink ?"

"I believed we were only allowed two glasses of champagne."

Pollux was already heading towards the bar. He slightly turned around and said "I can't hear you over the number of glasses I am taking."

She smiled and followed him.

In a corner of the room, Hermione saw Cassandre and Walburga whispering. Since she arrived in May, she had always seen Walburga with a mask of coldness and Cassandre with one of haughtiness. Yet, at this very moment, they looked like two teenagers enjoying their night and exchanging sincere smiles of adoration.

 _You would have never thought Walburga Black could look like that from the painting at Grimmauld Place._

She arrived at the bar.

"Grace !" Thorus smiled. He leaned and kissed her left cheek.

Thorus was wearing a dark grey suit with a black tie. His hair, usually a little disheveled, was slicked back. Hermione could see on his silver tie pin the blazon of the Nott family.

"Thorus, you look.. well… quite… _gentlemanly_ " She smiled.

"And you, you look.. Well… quite… ladylike." He mocked her.

She shoved him lightly and he smiled.

"I have someone I need to introduce you to." Nott told her.

Hermione looked around her to find Pollux. The latter gave her a smile and told her that they would catch-up later. Thorus took her arm and they weaved in and out to reach his father. She could feel her glass in her right hand and the moldings on the crystal. She could hear different fragments of conversations : from the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain talking strategies with one of his fellow players to a Ministry officer complaining about his boss.

The party was alive, people were all chatting enthusiastically. This Christmas dinner had nothing to do with the one she had experienced in her own timeline. This party was actually fun.

Thorus and Hermione arrived in front of a circle of two gentlemen chatting over a drink. The oldest quickly looked at the two students and dismissed the man he was conversing with. The two Slytherin approached.

"Father, let me introduce to you Grace Hortense." Thorus said.

"Miss Hortense, it is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Thorus' father hand kissed her left hand.

"The pleasure is mine." She answered.

 _ **Amuse-bouche 1 : Smoked Salmon Canapés**_

Timotheus Nott was a fifty-seven years old businessman. He was well known among his fellow members of the Wizengamot for driving a hard bargain. He was as much respected as he was loaded : which meant a lot. He also praised himself for making the best decisions : the wife he chose, the education he gave his son, the business he made thrive and finally the candidate he supported.

So Hermione was not shocked when she saw from the corner of her eyes Wilhelmina Tuft approaching her.

"You must be Grace." The witch smiled.

"I am." Hermione replied, the lie easy on the tongue. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Tuft."

"Please call me Wilhelmina. How do you like England ?" She asked while taking an amuse bouche.

"Wetter and colder than what I was used to in France but charming."

"I am sincerely saddened by the conditions you ended up here, but I hope you find Hogwarts a home like everyone in this room did or does."

They began talking, the four of them, about Hogwarts, England, Business and Elections. Professor Dumbledore joined them.

"Wilhelmina, I see you have met Ms. Hortense." The redhead said.

"Albus we are all on first name basis here." The witch smiled.

"We were talking about what was going on in France at the moment." Timotheus explained. "The French Aurors just got intelligence that Grindelwald's followers are meeting in cemeteries in Paris. They raided one an hour ago, _Le Père Lachaise_ , they arrested ten of them. Amazing work they are doing there."

They were all waiting for a comment from the future headmaster but he only nodded his head, acknowledging Nott's intervention.

"Have you been to France lately Albus ?" Tuft asked him.

"No."

Hermione thought he answered a bit too quickly. She leaned slightly closer to him, expecting him to form a full sentence instead of one-syllable words.

 _You are not fooling everybody Dumbledore._

"Well, I went to the French Ministry for business last month." Dumbledore corrected.

"Oh is it regarding the new investments they are…" Timotheus started.

Hermione shared a look with Dumbledore. One that only lasted four seconds. In those four seconds an entire conversation took place. In those four seconds she knew he didn't tell the entire truth. And in those four seconds, he knew he didn't fool everyone.

Hermione excused herself and left the circle. She wandered across the room, sometimes chatting with some fellow Slytherin or taking one of the salmon canapés in her mouth.

The smooth jazz set the perfect atmosphere, Hermione turned and faced the band. She simply enjoyed the sound of the saxophone mixed with the upright bass and the piano. The heavenly sound turned out to be less interesting than the whispered conversation taking place behind her.

"She is seventeen Corvus. Seventeen for fuck sakes." She heard Septimus Malfoy whisper.

"Don't you think I know that ?" The other man replied.

 _Who is he talking to ? What is he talking about ?_

"How could you let that happen ?" Malfoy Senior continued. "How long has it been going on ?"

A heavy silence settled.

"Who have you told ?" The other man asked.

"No one. Yet."

"Are you trying to blackmail me Malfoy ? Is that what you are trying to do ?"

"You call it blackmail, I just call it leverage."

"You are a fuck friend Septimus."

"We are not fifteen anymore Corvus." Glass clicking in the background made Malfoy stop talking. Hermione shot a quick glance and saw the tall blond man looking around him. "Just keep it in your pants." Septimus barely whispered.

Hermione took a small step back in order to catch the following of the conversation.

"I don't want to have to tell your wife about your mess." He continued.

"You wouldn't dare. I've hidden all of your shits from the Wizengamot and I won't hesitate to dig them up."

"You do that Corvus, I swear your wife won't be the only one aware of your dirty secret."

Behind her the two men left before she could try to identify this Corvus. She asked for a glass of water at the bar and looked at the dancing area.

"Not too disappointed ?"

She turned her head and saw Tom leaning on the bar next to her.

"I was expected something more… Slughornish ?" Hermione answered.

Tom pointed, with his chin, towards Slughorn entertaining a loud crowd. "More Slughornish than that ?"

Hermione chuckled. "I had a lot of expectations." She gave him a last glance before leaving his side and heading towards Pollux at the opposite of the room.

On her way to her friend she got intercepted by a slightly bored Isodor, mouthing her to stay by his side. "Please don't leave me alone with them."

 _ **Amuse-bouche 2 : Tuna loin with black radish and passionfruit coulis**_

"It hasn't changed since 1436 Arcturus. It is not going to change now ! You know as well as I do that the concentration of fairy wings in potions is strictly regulated." A tall forty-year-old man told to what looked like an older Orion Black.

"I know that but it doesn't make it appropriate ! I have just read the article by Odette Smarckle on a new use of fairy wings and it opened my mind to new possible potions." Arcturus answered.

Hermione looked at Isodor. "Why are we staying here ?" She mouthed him.

"I've been here for too long I can't back down now." He replied without making a noise. "And it's becoming oddly captivating."

Hermione couldn't help but snicker. The two adults finally acknowledged their presences.

"Isodor !" The older Orion Black said. "How long have you been here for ?"

"I just arrived." Avery answered. "Twenty minutes ago." He added whispering.

"Who's your charming friend ?"

"Mr. Black, Mr. Rosier this is Grace Hortense."

They both turned around and faced her.

"Arcturus Black." The first one offered a handshake. "I have heard a lot about you."

"Nicolas Rosier." The other only added.

 _Oh Nicolas Rosier. Your name will be recurrent in the papers._

"Mr. Rosier, I've heard a lot about you back in France. It is good to finally make your acquaintance." Hermione said. She saw Rosier tensing up. "After all your bloodline is French before being British, isn't it ?" She fake smiled.

Orion Black, who was standing next to his father with Galatis Carrow, yawned.

"You must know my son Ms. Hortense." Arcturus quickly intervened in order to cover his son behaviour.

Orion nodded towards her. "Where is your intended ?" His father asked him.

"She went to the powder room father." The boy answered.

Isodor coughed and leaned towards Hermione. "She went there an hour ago." He whispered.

"And she was not alone." Hermione added.

"Well Orion, go get her. A lady should never be left unintended." Arcturus gave a pointed look at his son. The latter nodded, excused himself and went away.

A silence settled between the five of them. Galatis Carrow, even though she had known the two older men since her birth, seemed uneasy. Hermione looked at her and saw her searching for something to say in order to put an end to the silence.

"Have you heard about the arrestations ?" Galatis finally said.

Another silence. Rosier and Black were staring at Galatis, waiting for more information on the subject.

"Well Ms. Carrow, when you have information of that importance, there are three things you need to respect. First, your source, is it reliable ? Are you entirely sure about the veracity of your say intel ? Second, you need to be confident that you know everything on the subject in order not to make a fool of yourself. And finally, who are you telling the information to ? Are you using this statement to fill in the blanks or is there a real purpose behind it ?" Arcturus Black declared.

Galatis looked like she was going to burst into tears. Arcturus Black, on the other hand, felt like his little speech was nothing more than another lesson to give to a child.

"Out of the three Ms. Carrow, telling me this information was the only sensible thing you did tonight." He finished.

Galatis discreetly squealed. "Well gentlemen, if you could excuse me I need to go to the ladies' room."

Arcturus stepped aside to let her leave the circle.

"If I may... " Hermione started. The attention of the three men was focused on her. "I know from Lord Nott that the French Aurors arrested ten of Grindelwald's men just over an hour ago after getting intelligence about the location of their secret meetings : _au cimetière du Père Lachaise_."

"At the Père Lachaise cemetery ?" Arcturus parrotted.

"It not only a muggle cemetery. A lot of wizarding families have a vault over there." Isodor added.

"The Rosier Family has one there, don't you ?" Hermione asked innocently.

Nicolas Rosier sent her a deathly glare and quickly responded. "So does the Lestrange."

 _Yes but the Lestrange are not known for being Grindelwald's supporters. Nicolas, do you get the slight difference ?_

"Ms Hortense, Mr Avery, Arcturus, have a good evening... I-I need to refill my glass." After that statement Rosier left.

Hermione followed him with her gaze. "Lord Black it was a pleasure to meet you. I need to see someone."

"Ms Hortense ?" Black stopped her in her way to leave. "The pleasure was mine."

 _Keep going like that Hermione._

She shyly smiled, nodded and as she was leaving she heard Isodor say "About the 1436 law…"

She chuckled.

 _Oddly captivating indeed._

 _ **Amuse-bouche 3 : Pickled baby beets with herbed goat cheese and kumquats**_

She stopped to talk to some of her professors. Slughorn was entertaining the circle she was in by retelling a match of Quidditch. While the large professor explained a "phenomenal" goal from the Russian Team, Hermione heard Cassandre's voice not far.

She slightly turned around and saw the entire Parkinson family. The father, Haurus Parkinson, reprimanded his younger son, while the heir drank another glass.

"... and in front of the entire society ? How dare you embarrass me like that ?"

"Father they were just talking." Pollux intervened.

"Son, you know as well as I do that it was not just talking."

 _Cassandre and Walburga ? Again ?_

"It is not as if anything could happen now." Cassandre said.

His father leaned onto his younger son's personal space. The features of his face were terrifying. Pollux put his hand on his father's shoulder "Father, not here."

"You are right son. At least my heir has some common sense. Learn something from your brother Cassandre, at least he knows how to behave in a social gathering."

Cassandre barked out a laugh, as if he had just heard the most insane thing in his entire life.

"He knows how to behave ? Are you kidding me father ? Take a good look at him."

Upon these words Cassandre Parkinson left in a hurry, jostling one of the guests who spilled some of his goblin's bourbon on Pollux' tuxedo.

Hermione realised that she was more focused on a conversation she was not a part of than the one she was supposed to participate in. She turned her head towards the circle of wizards she was in, and tried to catch up with what she had just missed.

"If you like Quidditch that much Horace, I just got tickets for the next match between Bulgaria and Ireland."

 _You know that voice Hermione._

"Thank you Corvus. It's highly appreciated." Her potions professor said.

"But Father I thought…" Edgard Lestrange started.

"Not right now." Corvus Lestrange cut him.

 _No fucking way._

Hermione felt quickly overwhelmed. There were too many information, too many people she needed to talk to. She just needed some fresh air or maybe a drink.

 _Where is Aberforth when you need him ?_

She didn't need to excuse herself as the people were chatting enthusiastically about the next Quidditch game. She headed towards the bar and asked for a glass of champagne. She took it in her right hand and her gaze came upon her Headmaster. Armando Dippet seemed already tired of his night. He settled next to her, took a good look at the glass in her hand and smiled. She blushed.

"Ms Hortense, we haven't had the time to really talk since your arrival."

"Headmaster Dippet." She said uneasily due to the unauthorized alcohol in her hand.

"I won't tell anyone Ms Hortense, you can drink it." He chuckled. "I would ask you how your classes are, but I have only heard good things about you. After all, with your school record I was not expecting less of you."

"Grace I can't do it anymore" Isodor appeared next to her. "Headmaster Dippet ! I didn't you see here. How are you doing on this fine night ?"

"Mr Avery, if only you could be interested in those kinds of party as much as you are in mischief."

There was a second of silence before the headmaster kept going.

"I need to go back and shake some hands. Ms Hortense I hope it will not take another six months before we talk again. Mr Avery I will see you soon in detention I guess."

Armando Dippet bowed his head and left. Isodor grabbed her wrist and took her outside. It felt good to breathe some fresh air. She just realized that the sound inside was tiring. The patio was filled with students. On the left side, she saw Pollux and Cole leaning against the wall, sharing a smoke. She smiled at Isodor and both of them went their own way. Avery joined the lads on the right and she approached the two Sixth Year.

"Hey Kiddo." Pollux said.

"Still drinking ?" She smiled.

"It's water." He replied.

"Eau-de-vie" Cole coughed masking his words.

"There is still the word water in the name at least." Hermione laughed.

They were, the three of them, leaning against the brick wall, enjoying the quietness. They could hear some of the other students talking in the background. She smelt the goblin's bourbon coming off Pollux's suit.

"Mate I am so glad we only have one those bloody Christmas party left. I feel like I have aged forty years in just two hours." Cole declared.

"You're preaching to the converted." Pollux exhaled, smoke coming out of his mouth. "Too much politics and for what ? A bloody corner office. At least when my family was in charge there was not that much fuss."

Dolohov turned around a few meters away. "Come on Pollux, not again."

"What ? I am just saying that when Perseus Parkison was Minister there was not all that fuss"

"It was in 1726 mate ! You weren't even born and you never met the _dude_."

"Still, I guess it was not like that."

Pollux and Cole laughed as if it was a private joke between the two of them.

"Are we talking about the same Perseus ? The one who attempted to pass a bill making it illegal to marry a Muggle and misread the public mood ? The one the wizarding community, tired of anti-Muggle sentiment and wanting peace, voted him out at the first opportunity ?" Hermione intervened.

"You are only focusing on the bad parts. It wasn't like that." Pollux smiled down at her.

"Shut up Pollux." Cole and Dolohov said at the same time.

After that, both the lads and the Sixth Years began talking among themselves loudly. Hermione kept quiet and observed. She wouldn't have noticed Tom got close to her if it was not for his cologne.

"Who are you betting on ?" He asked her.

She turned her head. The prefect was wearing an entirely black suit, from his costume to his shirt and tie. This outfit matched his eyes and his hair.

Hermione understood by the smirk on his face what he was talking about. She was not the only one "gambling" about who would end up Minister of Magic. Tom was as much involved as she was apparently.

"Only a blind person would make the wrong bet." She replied.

He chuckled silently. He fixed his tie, ready to go back inside, but leaned a little. "By the way, it is true, _you should laugh more often_."

She watched him go back inside, his words still resonating in her head and his smell still floating around her.

 _He is everywhere._

* * *

24.12.1942 :

The first thing he noticed when he entered the large room was the loud noise. He put back the fake smile on his face and joined the crowd. Some handshakes, casual conversation, a few good words placed to the right people. Tom knew how it worked and he was good at it.

After a dozen of minutes he felt a little dizzy. He went to the bar and asked for a glass of water.

"Tom."

He tensed at the recognition of the voice, smiled then turned around.

"Professor Dumbledore." He replied.

"We could call this party a success, wouldn't we ?"

"Professor Slughorn really outdid himself this year."

"You should enjoy your night Tom."

The implications of those words were clear for Tom.

"So should you Professor."

They exchanged a look.

 _You are not fooling everyone._

The professor nodded and left.

 _I really need a drink._

OoOoOo

24.12.1942 :

 _ **Amuse-bouche 4 : Parmesan biscuit with avocado chantilly toast**_

"Afterall it was my idea to create a fund with Rosier and Lestrange for the new aisle at St Mungo's." Tom heard Malfoy praise himself.

 _Of course it was.._

 _It is not as if I have not told your sons that you all needed to do something together in order to appear in the newspaper instead of Tuft._

 _It is not as if I have not told your sons that St Mungo's would benefit from a donation to build a new aisle._

"It is fine to talk about our foreign policies but if we don't focus our strengths on our own society and what we could do to enhance our citizen's daily life, are we really doing the right thing ?" Septimus kept going.

This conversation had begun with Septimus Malfoy, some members of the Ministry, Aurelian Greengrass, Antonin Dolohov Senior, Thorus, Isodor and Tom. Lord Malfoy was clearly trying to undermine Tuft's policies.

"Tuft is so sure England will suffer the same fate as France that she is not focused enough on the rest. Maybe we should create a department dedicated to futile matters and she could be the head of it."

Tom tried not to roll his eyes at the pathetic statement Abraxas' father just made.

The Greengrass had always been fervent supporters of the Malfoys so Tom was not even surprised when Aurelian Greengrass nodded enthusiastically at the words coming out of his friend's mouth.

In the distance Tom noticed Galbanda Greengrass, Belone McNair and Grace chatting. At the sight of his own daughter, Aurelian call out her name and asked the girls to join them. The circle extended.

"Gentleman you remember my daughter Galbanda and her friend Belone Mcnair, Desdal's daughter." He turned towards Grace. "And you must be Ms Hortense."

The brunette nodded.

Malfoy Senior looked at Galbanda and declared "I was just telling your father Tuft's ideas were not sufficient."

A somber laugh escaped Antonin's father. The crowd turned to him. "Septimus, aren't you just trying to undermine Tuft's authority because you know that more than half of the Wizengamot is supporting her ?"

"The Wizengamot has nothing to do with that." The blond answered sharply.

"My bad !" He fake apologised. "I actually wanted to talk about the mess you're implicated in at the Wizengamot."

 _He is less subtle than I thought._

Tom saw that Aurelian Greengrass was trying to find a way to change the subject. His gaze fell on Grace. Tom knew for sure he was going to ask her about the attacks back in France.

 _Is there a better way to change a subject than throwing the bone at someone else ?_

Isodor and Thorus chose that moment to begin laughing. Tom shot them a deathly glance but Greengrass caught that, stared at him and talked.

"Tom you are living in muggle London aren't you ?"

Tom tensed, did not answer and waited for the rest to come.

"Isn't it too difficult with the war going over there ? What about rationing…"

From this moment on, the young generation saw the tension in Tom's body. His face was losing his smile and his eyes became darker.

"Isn't it too harsh on a young boy like yourself ? And the bombings are they…"

Greengrass' monologue was interrupted by a loud crashing noise. Everyone stopped and looked at Grace. She had just dropped her glass on the ground.

"I am terribly sorry. I must be tipsier than I thought ... Silly me." She explained visibly ashamed.

 _Fucking Hortense. Thank you._

Slughorn arrived and broke the silence that just settled. "Excuse me, may I borrow Grace and Tom for a moment ?"

The two students nodded at the guests and followed their professors into the crowd.

They entered a new circle composed of Professor Merrythought, Headmaster Dippet, two academicians from Ilvermorny and some Ministry officials.

"Those are the two students I was talking to you about Professor Beadles." Slughorn said.

 _ **French wine**_

Tom and Grace greeted the adults and altogether began talking about their classes and their aspirations for their futures.

"Horace, I have always heard about your famous Christmas gathering but I must say that I was not expecting something so spectacular." Professor Beadles explained above the jazz music. She turned towards the two students. "Is it always like that ?" She asked them.

"Well Grace cannot attest for that it is only her first dinner after all. But I assure you that it is always impressive." Tom smiled.

 _You may be Slughorn's new shiny toy, but I will always be his favorite._

People kept talking after that. Tom turned towards Grace and smirked. He also noticed that she took his bait.

"And what are you studying in potions at the moment ?" A ministry official asked Grace.

"We are currently working on altering some beginners potions." She answered.

"It seems quite advanced for a fifth-years."

"Actually it is not what I am teaching in my conventional class…" Slughorn intervened.

 _Conventional class ?_

"... you see Grace here is quite the prodigy in Potions."

"Professor…" Grace humbly tried to stop him.

"Aren't you taking private lessons with Professor Slughorn ?" Merrythought asked the French girl.

 _Come again ?_

"Every Wednesday night and Friday before conventional class." Slughorn proudly announced.

 _You must be kidding me. Is this where she disappeared for four months ? Only for private classes ?_

He rose his head and looked directly at her. She had a smug smile on her face that screamed "I played you."

Tom took a glass of red wine and downed it.

* * *

24.12.1942 :

Hermione had just finished an interesting conversation with Nott senior and his son. She came across the dancing area to go outside, to breathe some fresh air. However she spotted on her left, Nicolas Rosier opening an envelope, colors leaving is face.

Hermione got closer but got interrupted by Pollux. "Horteeense ! Come party with the real folks !"

"Pollux I don't have time right now." She tried to bypass him. He stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

"Come on we've barely talked."

"Later Pollux ! I just told you I can't right now."

"You don't need to make any connexions. After all I am the heir of the prestigious Parkinson family !" He joked trying to hide his disdain for what he had just said.

"Go drink a glass of water and I will find you later."

Hermione didn't wait for his answer that she was already getting closer to Nicolas Rosier. She watched him talking with Antonin Dolohov Senior. She approached the bar and took a verrine.

 _ **Verrine : Tuna and beets crumble**_

Nicolas hastened to rip apart the picture he had in his hand. Hermione just got the time to catch a sight of it. On the wizard photography she saw Nicolas stepping out of the door wearing dress robes with the famous symbol. The same one Xenophilius Lovegood wore at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Grindelwald trademark. The picture was another proof of his involvement in the movement.

Edmund's father hissed. "Who sent me this ?" He asked Dolohov.

"I told you it was a bad idea to be involved in this. Who else knows ?"

"It is a secret. Only five people know."

"Five people ? It is not a secret anymore, it is information."

Nicolas Rosier rose his head and came upon Hermione's eyes. She quickly lowered her gaze.

 _Fuck._

* * *

24.12.1942 :

Tom was bored. The conversation, taking place before his eyes, was almost putting him to sleep. His eyes wandered around the room.

He saw from afar Pollux and Grace talking. She seemed in a hurry and annoyed with him whereas Pollux was joyful and a little pissed. He followed Grace with his gaze as she moved towards the bar and took a verrine. She turned her head, so did he.

He noticed Nicolas Rosier and Dolohov senior talking vehemently. The first one had the remains of what seemed to be a paper in his hand. The look on his face said it all : it was important information.

The two men exchanged a few words before Rosier lifted his head, a mixture of anger and determination on his face. Tom searched for Rosier's target of hatred : Grace.

The head of the Rosier family walked towards her at a determined pace. Grace, on the other hand, was scared. For the first, Tom saw pure fear in her eyes. Tom took a step forward, not sure what to do. Then he saw Rosier grab Grace's wrist violently. At this, Tom kept walking towards them. He tried to cross the ocean of people separating him from them.

Still holding vehemently Grace's wrist, Tom saw Rosier talking. Tom tried to move faster.

 _ **Fruit punch**_

"... _c'est pour le plus grand bien n'est-ce pas ?"_ Grace whispered loudly.

" _Tu n'es qu'une gamine qui s'est retrouvée au milieu d'une guerre d'adultes. Ca ne te concerne pas."_ Rosier spat back.

Grace scoffed. " _Comment osez-vous dire que ça ne me concerne pas, alors que la seule chose que vous ayez faite jusqu'à présent a été de vous asseoir derrière un bureau. »_

Even though Tom did not understand a word that had just been said, he knew that this conversation was not going to end well.

Tom saw from the corner of his eyes Rosier reaching for his wand. He knew he needed to intervene. He snatched a glass of punch and joined them.

"Grace !" Tom said theatrically. He knew he did not sound natural. "I have been looking everywhere for you. I got you a glass of punch." He gave her the glass.

"Why ?" She genuinely asked, still pretty shocked about what had just happened.

Tom noticed that Rosier was not the only one who had reached for his wand. Grace lowered her hand from her holster and took the glass he just offered. Rosier left abruptly, leaving the two Slytherin alone.

"Why the fuck did you do that ?" Grace barked.

"What the fuck did _you_ do ?" He spat back.

Tom noticed that the people around them started staring. He took Grace's wrist and heard her hiss from the pain. He quickly let go of her hand and stared at the bruises Rosier had left. He said nothing.

"It doesn't concern you Riddle." Grace whispered.

"Did you really think I would have let you ruin the night by starting a _duel_? You are not the only one with an agenda." He shot at her.

They stayed silent, staring at one another. They were secluded in an almost deserted area. The guests were mainly gathered around the bar and the dancing area. From where they were, they could talk without anyone eavesdropping on their conversation. Apparently, they were not the only who thought this spot was perfect for not being overheard.

"Maybe we could just leave." Grace and Tom heard.

They turned their head at the same time and saw, in a dark alcove, Cassandre and Walburga.

"We haven't graduated yet." Walburga chuckled.

"Who cares ?" Cassandre laughed. "We have money, we could flee the country, start something in a foreign one just the two of us."

"Let's do this." Walburga smiled.

"Let's do this." Cassandre repeated.

For a couple of seconds, Tom and Grace forgot entirely about what had just happened with Rosier.

"They are fools." Tom declared.

"They are in love." Grace said calmly.

"Isn't that the same thing ?"

Tom shot a last glance at the two lovers and left.

 _ **Assortment of desserts**_

Thirty minutes later Tom found himself talking to the lads sans Dolohov. He could finally relax a bit for a minute. He wondered where Antonin was, usually when he summoned the lads for a meeting he was the first one to show up.

 _Where is he ?_

Tom saw from afar Antonin talking to his father.

"Excuse me lads." He said. "Abraxas I will need to talk to you later about some french translation."

He approached the Dolohovs but stopped in his track when he caught a glimpse of their conversation.

"Lower your voice." His father ordered Antonin. "Did you do what I asked of you ?"

"I have heard some interesting conversations."

"And ?"

"You were right father. The Malfoys are in a real mess with the Wizengamot."

 _Well I see you are not working exclusively for me Dolohov._

"Can you get your hands on names son ?"

"I will father."

Tom saw father and son walking away from each other. As they separated the prefect caught sight of a particular shade of green : emerald.

 _Why is she alone ? It is not the first time tonight. Why would someone, with an agenda, choose to be alone in an important gathering ?_

He chose to join her. "Hortense." He simply said. He felt as if he just interrupted something.

"Can't you just leave me alone for one second Riddle ?"

"Why ? Do you have something to hide?"

"Well the last time you thought I was hiding something, it turned out I just had private classes with a professor." He heard the smirk in her voice.

"Why did you keep it a secret ?"

"That's the funny thing Riddle, it never was a secret. You just assumed as much and I just went along with it." She mocked him.

They stood still for a couple of more seconds. "Well Riddle, I must leave you. As you said, I _do_ have an agenda tonight."

She left.

 _What was she doing there ?_

He took a good look around him and noticed that a painting was staring at him.

 _She looked like I interrupted her._

He stared at the painting, he understood, he smirked.

"Good evening Sir, may I ?" Tom said.

* * *

24.12.1942 :

 _ **After-dinner liqueur**_

"How long has it been ?" Isodor asked quietly Milton.

"4 hours I think." The small boy answered.

"It is not a dinner anymore, it is a fucking sleepover."

At the swear word, Tom shoved him a little whereas Hermione chuckled.

 _It's been four hours Hermione. You have met every candidate. They are all gathered here. Let's see out this turns out._

Slughorn, apparently sick of the political talk, left the conversation and was replaced by Dumbledore. The circle was composed of all the important people : the lads, some of their fathers, Tuft, Dumbledore, Hermione and Tom.

Between two drags of this cigar, Corvus Lestrange exposed his view on the actual state of France. "After all, France is not as destroyed as they want us to believe in the tabloids."

"Have you been there ? I have, and I can tell you that it is as much destroyed as the press tells." Tuft intervened. "Even more."

"They only suffered five or six attacks." Rosier said.

"Only five or six ?" Tuft repeated. "Are you hearing the words coming out of your mouth ? Would you say the same thing if it was England instead of France ?"

Septimus Malfoy was ready to spat back at Tuft when a photographer interrupted the heated argument. "Picture for the Daily Prophet ? Let's do one with all the candidates then we will take one with everyone."

The four wizards stepped forward and smiled. Their smiles were so fake that Hermione wondered if anyone could be fooled by them. They were tensed and eager to get done with it. She heard one of the reporters next to the photographer commenting "this would be perfect, let's bring the children and professors."

The others, whom she was a part of, approached and settled around the candidates.

When the first flash dazzled Hermione, she realised what it meant : she had never seen a picture of Grace Hortense in the 1990's, she had never read anything about her. Yet, she had just written a rune's article and just took a picture which will be the next cover of the Daily Prophet.

 _How ?_

 _What have you been thinking ? You weren't careful enough Hermione. You need to sort this out._

 _Does it mean you need to get rid of them ?_

The panic she felt rising in her chest quickly disappeared as Malfoy barked the argument he had been waiting to say before they all got interrupted.

"Why are you always bringing England in the matter ? It almost looks like you want to be attacked. You are playing with people's fears so they will vote for you." Malfoy spat.

"May I remind you that the prior minister of magic had been urged to resign because he didn't take this threat seriously ?" Haurus Parkinson added.

"Afterall we have professor Dumbledore." Desdal Macnair objected.

Everyone looked at the concerned. Hermione could not distinguish the questions shot at Dumbledore as they came from everywhere : parents, candidates, students.

"Listen everyone." Dumbledore finally said. "Yes we do have to take the threat seriously. Why is he afraid of me ? I don't know. Is he really afraid of me ? I don't know. Should my presence keep him at bay it would only be for a short period of time. That is why we cannot not take this threat seriously."

"And how do you want us to prepare ourselves for that ? It is not like the French want to divulge any intel regarding the said attacks !" Lestrange asserted.

"Well, if I may interrupt." Tom announced. "You have intel right here." He looked at her and smiled.

 _What are you playing at Riddle ?_

"Yes Ms Hortense, do tell us." Septimus Malfoy said.

"What do you want to know Lord Malfoy ?" She calmly answered.

"How could you not have known that they were going to attack Beauxbatons ?" Rosier cut her.

"That is the point of a surprise attack Mr. Rosier, no one is aware it is going to happen" She sarcastically said.

"Why did you not leave the academy sooner ? I heard you had a portkey, right ? Why didn't you use it before the massacre ?" Lestrange interrogated her.

"Well…"

"When you let the younger students leave the castle, why didn't you leave ?" Rosier cut her.

"Some of us needed to stay behind to fight back."

 _This is not information they are looking for, they just want to discredit your story for their owns._

"You were able to get people out, why didn't you let help in, then ?" Septimus Malfoy asked.

"W-we…" Hermione tried.

"Why did you leave alone ? You could have taken other people with your portkey." Lestrange assumed.

"I-I…"

They were talking about France, she knew it, but she couldn't help but think about her own departure, the real one. The guilt became stronger.

She could not talk. She felt her throat closing from the pressure they put on her shoulders. Her face turned pale and her palms became clammy. Hermione looked around her, desperately trying to find help. Every lad were running away from the stare. Tom was simply emotionless, waiting for her to respond, waiting for her to react. Dumbledore was gawking at her, suddenly interested in what she had to say. And for once, she had nothing to say.

"Would you say you could have done something more ?" Rosier pointedly asked.

"Could you have prevented it ?"Septimus added.

Her head began to spin.

"Would you have prevented it ?" Between all the questions that were thrown at her, she distinctively heard the whispered sentence coming out of Tom's mouth.

After that, she only felt a hand on her shoulder, and someone softly excusing themselves before taking her away from the circle.

She rose her head and saw her transfiguration teacher guiding her away towards the bar. Once they arrived he ordered her a glass of water.

"I need something stronger." She said more to herself than the bartender.

"Bourbon." Dumbledore declared.

"Firewhiskey." She rectified.

Dumbledore nodded his head and the barman poured her the drink. None of them talked. They simply looked in front of them and drank their beverages. Hermione knew that Dumbledore was waiting for her to say something.

"What do you want me to say ?" She simply asked.

"I don't know. What do you want to tell me ?"

"It is not because you gave me a drink that I am going to spill all of my secrets Professor."

She turned her head and saw Tom smirking from afar. Her guilt melted into anger. He thought he could do anything, throw anyone under the bus, even her. At that moment, she felt powerless. She saw him excusing himself and leaving the circle.

"Thanks for the drink." She stated before rushing behind Tom into the crowd.

As she was about to join him, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and saw Pollux. The alcohol he had been drinking all night gave him a crooked smile.

 _No. You don't have time Hermione._

"No Pollux I really don't have time." The words came out harsher than she had intended.

"Just one drink !" He pointed the bar, losing his balance for a second.

"A drink ? Don't you think you have drunk enough already ?" She spat.

"You're no fun." Pollux slurred. "Just like my brother."

"Maybe you should listen to him for once. And go drink a glass of water for fuck sakes."

She turned around again and joined Tom on the terrace. It seemed as if he was waiting for her. He had one elbow on the balustrade and his other hand held a glass of bourbon. She quickly looked around them to make sure no one was around.

She got close to him and smacked the drink out of his hand. The glass broke on the floor.

"Never do that again." She threatened him.

"I do not know what you are talking about." He mocked.

"You know exactly what I am talking about that. Don't pull this shit on me again Riddle.

"We were only having a conversation. You are just overreacting."

"What is the matter with you ?" She almost yelled. "This is not a game ! This is my life, my story to say, my credibility."

"You see, that is the thing Hortense. Isn't it only just a game after all ?"

He left his position and went by the door. He opened it. The music became louder. He stopped in his tracks. "Oh, I forgot." He said. "Nice dress." And he re-entered the room.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Hermione released an angry cry. She could hear her blood pulsing in her ears and her heart beating in her throat. She put her hands in her hair and pulled. She was about to reach the end of her tether.

She knew she had to go back inside, so she tried to fix her hair and put on a smile. She knew she would not convince anyone yet she entered the room. She briefly scanned it. Hermione saw Milton eating a desert, Belone laughing with Galbanda, Cassandre and Walburga arguing in the back. Then, she noticed the bar and the boy spiking his drink. Spiking was not the right term, Pollux was actually pouring his entire flask in his punch. She saw red.

She approached him, grabbed him by the arm and lead them both outside. He drunkenly followed her in the deserted corridors until they reached an empty classroom.

"One thing !" She yelled, the scream resonating in the room. "I asked you to do just one thing and you are not even capable of doing that. What's wrong with you ?" Her voice breaking at the end.

Hermione could feel the sharp smell of alcohol coming out of her friend. She was expecting goblin's bourbon to be the strongest smell because someone had spilled some on Pollux's tuxedo. However, he was stinking firewhiskey.

"And I-I asked y-you one thing too." He slurred.

"I told you I didn't have the time."

"And I told you I wanted to have fun tonight ! So if I want to get pissed I get pissed !" He yelled back. "I am Pollux fucking Parkinson."

"And you think that it gives you the right to be an arsehole ?!"

"Who are you to talk ? You're just some kid I've met a couple of months ago. Just fuck off Hortense."

He reached for a cigarette in his jacket, tried to light it but struggled as he was too intoxicated.

"You know what ? Fuck you Pollux. I am done. I am _so_ done. "

She felt anger pulsing through her entire body. Her breath was quick and uneven and her eyes were wet from the tears that would roll on her cheeks soon. She left him alone in the room and slammed the door behind her.

She couldn't go back to the party, she wanted to go to her dormitories so she just kept walking, her gaze focused on nothing. She kept walking until she found herself in front of what she used to consider home. She wanted to get into her dormitories, even though those were not the right ones, she was exactly where she needed to be.

She looked at the Fat Lady in the painting and the woman smiled down at her. This made her finally cry.

"Sing for me please." She laughed through the tears.

And the Fat Lady complied.

* * *

 **Notes :**

 **Translation of the discussion between Nicolas Rosier and Grace :**

 **"..afterall it is for the greater good, isn't it ?"**

 **"You are only a kid who got caught in the middle of a grown-up's war. This does not concern you."**

 **"How dare you say that this doesn't concern me ? The only thing you have done so far is sit behind a desk."**

 **Hope you guys like it.**

 **We told you that the information in chapter 5 may be useful later.**

 **Thank you so much for your reviews, it is wondeful to read them.**

 **Lots of love.**

 **-DDM's Manager**


	10. A TEMPEST IN A TEACUP - PART I

**Dying is a Delicate Moment**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

Thoughts are written in Italics

New POV : Big Line

Same POV / Time Lapse : OoOoOo

 **CHAPTER TEN : A TEMPEST IN A TEACUP - PART I**

* * *

 **Notes :We are currently looking for a Beta, so if anyone is interested you can send us a mail at : agarariddle **

_Song : A Tempest in a Teacup by Derek Webb_

* * *

09.01.1943 :

The teacup was chipped.

"No Albus."

It was tiny, almost invisible.

"You have no say in this."

But the cup was chipped.

"She is my student, my responsibility."

Like a scar on porcelain skin.

"You will leave us alone."

She skimmed the crack with her right thumb, unable to feel the porcelain cutting her skin. Numb. She felt numb.

She repeated the movement one more time. And this time, sensed the laceration on her finger. She removed her thumb from the teacup and examined it. A pearl of blood was ready to flow on her skin. She followed its movement, slowly rolling on the palm of her hand to reach her wrist.

The thin line of blood the pearl left behind, this blazing crimson red, stood out on the dirty dry maroon blood covering her hand. Her gaze focused on both of her hands. She felt the layer of old blood slightly cracking as she slowly moved her fingers. She took the teacup in her left hand and stared at it. The white porcelain was long gone and replaced by bloody fingerprints all over it.

She heard the loud steps of heavy shoes on the wooden floor, yet she did not steer her eyes away from the macabre sight of her hands. Then, the drag of a chair. She heard when it as it flowed over each parquet board. She felt as if the movement was slow or maybe she had just been living in slow motion for the past couple of hours. A loud thud just in front of her made her head snap up. She saw professor Slughorn sitting is a massive leather chair. The same type as the one she was currently longing in.

"Grace ?"

She was looking at his face. He was young compared to the Slughorn she had first met in her own timeline, yet his features were tight. The image of the silly professor he always seemed to have was gone. His brows were furrowed, his lips were pursed and his eyes were heavy with concern.

"Grace ?" He repeated.

She finally acknowledged his presence.

"The teacup is broken." She simply stated.

Slughorn opened his mouth to reply but quickly closed it. It appeared as if he was searching for the right words.

"It is Grace."

Her eyes went back to the cup. She tried to get rid of the blood on it.

"Grace."

She did not answer, too focused on making the blood disappear but only succeeding on smearing more on it.

"Grace?" He firmly said. "I need your attention."

She rose her head once more.

"I need you to tell me everything you remember from what happened this afternoon." Slughorn kept going. "What you are going to tell me is of utmost importance."

"What do you want to know ?" Hermione asked.

"Start from the beginning."

OoOoO

09.01.1943 :

Hermione dropped her trunk on the floor of the 5th Year girls dormitory. She was tired from her journey back to Hogwarts. She hesitated on relaxing on her bed for a couple of minutes but she opted not to, afraid of falling asleep. She did not bother emptying her suitcase. She went down to the Slytherin common room.

"Ready ?" Isodor smiled at her. "Come on Grace, everyone is already at Hogsmeade."

She reluctantly followed him down the corridors. Isodor was talking about how his Christmas holiday went. Hermione laughed at his anecdotes.

"... and I swear it wasn't me !" He finished as she rose her eyes towards the blue sky.

They just arrived in the small wizard village. The cold January breeze made the fresh layer of snow fly all around the students, muffled in their warm coats. The sun was only illuminating the streets. Hermione put her hands in her pockets. She turned her head to the left to look at Isodor. He had a match in his mouth. When he saw her watching, he shot her a wide grin. She replied with a soft smile.

They approached the main road. Hermione knew that the cold would force even the bravest to rush into the nearest popular bars, either the Three Broomsticks or the Swizzle Wand.

"I reckon the lads got a table at the Swizzle Wand." Isodor said.

They headed towards the large bar at the end of the road when someone interrupted their walk.

"Kiddo !"

They both turned their heads and saw Pollux and Cole getting near them.

"I have searched for you on the train, couldn't find you anywhere." Pollux kept going.

"No he didn't." Cole smiled next to him.

"You haven't replied to my last owl. So ? Did you like the present ?" Pollux asked her while lighting up a cigarette.

"Sure Pollux." Hermione laughed. "I found 12 years old : your body is changing quite interesting."

 _Funny considering you're older than him._

A loud and bright laugh escaped from his mouth and Isodor snickered behind her.

"Though, it was not as captivating of the one you gave me kiddo."

"Have you read it ?"

"I am a slow reader."

"Pollux, half of the book is animated images."

"What's the name of it again Pollux ?" Cole intervened, a smirk on his lips already knowing the answer.

Isodor was already grinning, impatient to find out the name of the book. "Tell us !"

"Can't get your wand up?" Hermione smugly said.

After a couple of seconds of silence, Isodor burst out laughing, catching the innuendo. "Grace you've got to give me the reference. I so need to give it to Cygnus."

"Too much information mate. Draw the fucking line Avery." Cole smiled.

"Are you coming with us ?" Hermione asked. "We're going to join the lads at the Swizzle Wand I think."

"Haven't you heard ?" Pollux rhetorically said. "The Swizzle Wand is closed today. It's weird on a back to school day."

 _That means the Three Broomsticks will be packed._

"That means the Three Broomsticks will be packed." Isodor complained.

She smiled at him.

Hermione looked at the entry of the said bar and saw students waiting outside, blowing hot air on their hands. She deeply hoped the lads found a table.

"Well let's go to the Hogshead, Abe always has a good bottle of firewhisky for me." Pollux said to Cole, shoving him in the ribs.

They both waved at the two fifth year and left. Isodor grabbed Hermione by the arm and they made their way through the crowd of students. As they opened the door of the Three Broomsticks a wave of warmth enveloped them. She saw, from the corner of her eye, Isodor waving at the lads sitting in a booth at the end of the room. They got closer.

They didn't even have the time to sit down that Thorus stopped them in their tracks. "We've been waiting for you for thirty minutes. So now…" He smiled like the Cheshire Cat while pushing a small pile of coins their way "it is your duty to order drinks."

"Fuck off. I was waiting for Grace." Isodor shot back.

"Oh for fuck sakes." Hermione said as she took the money and turned to the bar. She stopped and turned around. "You really are not going with me Isodor ?!"

He was about to sit on the bench and froze at the last second as he heard her. "I was coming, I was just resting my legs." The blond boy muttered.

The entire table snickered, as did she. The ordered 9 butterbeers and waited for their drinks to be ready. She leaned against the bar and scanned the room she was in.

 _Feels good to be back._

She shot a smile at Belone who was sitting a couple of meters away. Hermione noticed that even though there was a lot of students, there also was a good number of visitors.

Just one bar closes and the entire town settles for this one. You've never seen it so packed Hermione.

She saw Tom rising from his seat and coming towards them.

"Isodor, Abraxas wants to talk to you." The prefect said.

The other boy nodded and left the two of them alone.

Hermione turned around and laid her arms on the bar. Tom copied her movement.

"Nice cloak." He said. "Christmas present ?"

"Hum, yeah." She replied, remembering one of the other gifts she received the same night. A shiver went down her spine and made her tremble from remembrance.

 _Among other things…_

He looked at her then he smiled.

"Oh. I see you received it too." His voice pulling her out of her thoughts.

Hermione was startled. "It was still moving. How can you send that to someone for Christmas ? It's not a gift, it's a bad omen." She ending up laughing a little.

"Well at least you had the courtesy of being able to open it while you were alone. He gave it to me in person."

"Slughorn handed you a moving eye in person ?" Hermione said a little alarmed.

"You got an eye ? I got a tail."

 _Sometimes you tend to forget that is only fifteen. He is only a boy. He was only a boy before becoming who everyone fears._

They shared a look then smirked.

The barmaid gave them their butterbeers and they went back to the table. On their way to the lads, an older man shoved Hermione on his way to the door. She turned around, expecting him to apologise. The wizard, catching her insistent look mumbled "sorry" with a thick accent and went away. She settled next to Milton.

"Gracie !" The small boy smiled. "How was your holiday ?"

The entire table went silent. They exchanged knowing looks between them. They all knew.

Hermione had taken the train back to King's Cross as every other student the day after Slughorn's Christmas dinner. She had sat with the girls in a carriage at the front of the train. When the train stopped she had smiled at her fellow Slytherin, had taken her trunk and had gone on the platform. She directly had recognized the ministry official. He had had a stern look on his face and had been clutching his umbrella tightly while scanning the students' faces. She approached him.

" _Monsieur Boutin ?_ " She had asked.

He had acknowledged her presence by nodding his head.

" _Nous allons tout d'abord transplaner au ministère anglais, un port-au-loin nous attend la bas._ " (Trad : We will first apparate to the english ministry, a portkey is waiting for us there.)

He had offered her his arm, she had taken it and had grabbed tightly her trunk.

" _Prête ?_ " He had said. (Trad : Ready ?)

She had given him a shy smile then she had felt the world swirling around her.

Hermione had stared at the house, longer than she had expected. She had already been there, yet it had not been the same. It had been at night in May, she had been under shock, she had been overwhelmed. But at the precise moment, she had all the time in the world. So she had spent dozens of minutes staring at the white house. There had been bougainvillea climbing on the facade. On the first floor, there had been a small balcony with a large bay window. She had finally entered the house. It had not been the show flat she had been expecting after months of idleness, it had been alive. There had been books stacked in huge bookshelves, reading glasses on the wooden coffee table. A large patio door had allowed the southern sun to light the living room. It also had shown a little garden, one with swings, one with a small fountain carved into the rock on one of the outside walls.

The first night had been rough. She had been ashamed of laying in the bed of the girl who she burned the body. She had been incapable of looking at the modified pictures of herself with Grace's parents. And she had been unable to sleep.

Hermione had always been able to be Grace, but not in this house. "Thief" had been written all over the walls.

She had gone to France for a reason, she still had a relative, well Grace still had relative : her grandmother.

Hermione had visited her for the first time on a Monday, two days after arriving in Nice. Dahlia Hortense had stayed in a wizarding retirement home for the past five years. Hermione had held her wand as she entered the room, ready to cast a Confondus. She had been ready to shred Grace's last trace of existence out of this world. What she had not been expecting though was the delighted smile Dahlia had sent her, or the tight embrace she had given her, or the words she had spoken to her.

" _Ma petite fleur._ " The old lady had greeted her. " _Tu as tellement grandi. Tu es magnifique et tu es plus grande que moi maintenant !_ " (Trad : My little flower. You have grown so much. You are beautiful and taller than me now !)

Hermione had not been able to reply for a couple of seconds. She had prepared herself for hours, rehearsing a well-known spell in her head, but she had not had to cast it. Instead of words pouring out of her mouth, tears silently poured out of her eyes.

" _Comment vont tes parents ? Est-ce qu'ils sont là avec toi ?_ " (Trad : How are your parents ? Are they here with you ?)

" _Personne ne te l'a dit ?_ " (Trad : No one told you ?)

Dementia. Hermione had figured it out on her way back to the house. Someone had told Dahlia. She had simply forgotten and Hermione had found herself telling the woman with two flowers for a name that her son and his wife had died months prior over and over again for almost two weeks. Each time the old lady had cried. Hermione had wondered if those moments of pure sadness were her punishment for stealing her granddaughter's identity. So when she had gone back to see Dahlia on the last few days of her holidays, she had found herself telling her stories about Theodorus and Beatrice, how they were on holidays, each time changing the destination and inventing new exciting adventures.

The reason she had gone to France had turned out to be harder than what she had thought. At the beginning of December, she had received a letter from the French Ministry of Magic informing her that the bodies of the BeauxBatons' attacks victims were ready to get back to their families for proper burials. That was why she had gone to France and she had visited Grace's grandmother. She had needed help on the burial, she had wanted to do the right thing for them. Yet, she had been obliged to organise it all by herself. At first, Hermione had wanted to invite Dahlia to the funeral, but she had also wondered what good that would do, so in the end, she had gone alone.

It had been cloudy and cold that day. The Caucade's cemetery had been deserted. As she had seen the two coffins being lowered into the ground side by side, she had taken a picture she had kept in her pocket and put it on top of one of them, the one Hermione had unmodified. And with a small smile on her lips, she had delicately laid down a bouquet of Dahlias next to it.

"Yes, it was fine." Hermione finally answered Milton.

At this moment the lads really saw her tired face, and the little weight she had gained the last months seemed to have been lost.

Thorus, in front of her, quickly changed the subject, feeling the tense atmosphere. "I got a new broom for Christmas."

"And what use would that be ?" Edgard retorqued.

"Shut up." The other one laughed.

The conversation turned pleasant, they were chatting about their respective holidays within their families.

Hermione chugged down the last drops of her butterbeer then put it back loudly on the wooden circle table.

"Well lads, I must leave you." She informed them.

"Where are you going ?" Abraxas asked.

"I've got some errands to run. Let's meet up at 4PM in front of the apothecary."

She turned around but Milton's voice made her look behind her.

"Let's say 4:30PM we want to hit the broom shop."

She smiled at him and looked at the room one last time, still amazed by the crowd within the small pub.

OoOoO

09.01.1943 :

"So you left the Three Broomsticks around 2PM ?" Slughorn asked her.

She nodded.

"I need an oral confirmation Grace."

"Yes." She simply confirmed.

She moved forward in her seat to put the teacup back in its matching saucer laying on the table before her. The contrast of the white saucer with the bloody red cup astonished Hermione. Her eyes wandered on the tea ensemble and she drew the contours with her gaze.

This is wrong.

"So you were alone for two and a half hours ?" Slughorn tried to get her to talk, sensing she was spacing off again.

"No. I wasn't."

OoOoO

09.01.1943 :

As she walked alone south of the village, the chatting noise of the students talking loudly distanced from her. This part of town seemed almost deserted. This area wasn't known for being popular, except for the Swizzle Wand at the end of the road. With this main attraction closed for the day, only a few people were wandering around.

She saw the second-hand book shop Forgotten Books on her left and she opened the door. The old man, probably the longtime owner, was sitting behind the counter. He wasn't known for being the most polite person on earth so it was totally normal that they didn't greet each other. She walked down the aisles, getting herself lost in the mountains of books.

She lost herself for an hour in this bookshop reading the abstracts of some of the strangest books. She had chosen four at the end of this hour : Progress in Centaurs' legislation - a thesis on how to make a change, Architectural timeline of the oldest castles in Great Britain, Why should we listen to what elves have to say ? and Wandlore : The Art of Crafting the Ultimate Magical Tool.

She put the books down her enchanted purse and left the boutique. A small group of people walked in front of her, heading north. A man, walking opposite, stood out. He was not wearing particular clothes nor had a peculiar haircut. He just didn't seem to belong here.

OoOoO

09.01.1943:

"Did you know him ?" Slughorn asked.

"No I didn't."

"Did you follow him ?"

"No I didn't."

OoOoO

09.01.1943 :

"Kiddo !"

She spun around and saw Pollux grinning approaching her. His smile fell once he stood in front of her. "You look tired." He told her.

She let out a humorless laugh. "Well, thanks."

"Are you okay ?" He asked her.

"I'm fine."

He gave her a pointed look and reiterated his question. She only shrugged.

She knew he couldn't talk to her like he wanted to a couple of hours priors, and he was about to seize the opportunity of the two of them being alone to ask her about her holidays.

"I would have come." He simply stated. "I would have come if you had asked me to."

She understood what he was talking about. The British press had released an article about the French Ministry decision to give back the bodies to the families.

"I know you would have." Hermione gently smiled.

"And, are we okay ?"

 _He is talking about the Christmas dinner._

 _You fucked up. You were frustrated from not finding what you were looking for._

 _He fucked up. He was too pissed to realise he was bothering you._

"We _are_ fine Pollux." She genuinely answered.

They started walking in silence towards the Shrieking Shack and leaned against the white fence keeping them from entering the house. Pollux pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his black coat and lit one.

"How were your holidays ?" She asked him.

He snorted. "It was fine."

She took a good look at him. His features were tight and his eyes hollow. He put a hand through his hair and messed it up a little. Hermione had come to understand that he would do that when he was stressed.

He was a beautiful boy, everyone knew that, but as he took another drag of his cigarette Hermione found him tired.

"It was fine." He repeated, more to himself than to her.

"One more time and I will believe you." She gave him a sad smile.

He snorted again. "What do you want me to tell you Grace ? It was shite. My father was on my ass, always talking to me about politics, my mother was obliged to drown herself in wine just to handle two weeks of family gathering and Cassandre.."

He took a long drag.

"He hates me." He threw his cigarette in the snow. "But on the bright side, the Parkinson family always has good bottles." Pollux laughed. It was so fake that Hermione joined him. Then, his humorless laugh turned into a real one and they were incapable of stopping.

"We're two losers." Pollux stated, a smile still on his lips.

"At least we're together in this."

"Let's raid Abe's bar. What do you think ?"

"I told the lads I would join them, but later ?"

He smiled. He put his arm around her shoulders and they walked back to the center of the town. "About that book kiddo…"

OoOoO

09.01.1943 :

"So you were with Mister Parkinson ?"

"He went our separate ways. He headed south and I stayed a little bit longer in the north."

Hermione took back the teacup in her hands and drank a sip of it. The liquid had gone cold but she didn't care.

Her eyes were fixed on the coffee table, trying to remember every detail of the day. "I was with the lads, I went to the bookstore, I saw a man, Pollux called me, we talked for a while, we parted ways, I walked alone for a while and then…"

"Then what ?" Slughorn said eagerly.

"I saw Tom. I saw Tom and Antonin."

OoOoO

09.01.1943 :

As she walked she saw them in a small deserted alley. She stopped and quietly got closer. Tom shoved Dolohov violently on the brick wall and put his forearm on the smaller boy's throat.

"Give me the names." Tom told Antonin in a threatening voice.

"Tom, mate ! Stop !"

"Give. Me. The. Names."

Antonin's face became paler. He seemed genuinely scared. "Warwick, Pucey and Greengrass" He answered weakly. "But Tom..."

"Save it Dolohov. Save it for someone who cares. I believe now you know you can't keep secrets from me."

Dolohov tried to nod, but the strength Tom put on his throat didn't allow him to do so.

What is happening ?

Antonin turned slightly his head to the left and as he saw her, his eyes widened. Tom, by the look of his fellow Slytherin, turned his too and noticed she was standing a couple of meters away. He immediately let go of him. Hermione hurried to walk away and heard "fuck" coming out of Tom's mouth as she left.

OoOoO

09.01.1943 :

She looked at Slughorn, expecting him to say something about the altercation she had just described but the old potion master said nothing. He seemed contemplative.

They stayed silent for a bit but a knock on the door interrupted and broke the quietness. Slughorn turned his head towards the door and got up to open it. While he talked with who she assumed to be the nurse, Hermione looked around her. Her eyes wandered on the furniture, enlightened by the chimney's fire. Two huge bookshelves, filled with heavy books, decorated two of the four walls of Slughorn's private apartments. The two others were covered by different pictures of the professor with former students, celebrities, politicians.

"Then you joined the others ?" Slughorn had just come back and sat in the leather chair opposite of hers.

OoOoO

09.01.1943 :

Hermione wondered what she had just witnessed was about. Antonin was scared like he had done something wrong and Tom.. It was the first time she had seen him this angry and violent towards his friends.

She started making theories in her head when Cole called her from afar. She rose her head and saw him walking towards her. "Grace ! Have you seen Pollux ?" The sixth-year prefect was breathing heavily as he had just run a few miles.

"I saw him maybe thirty minutes ago ? We are supposed to meet up at the Hogshead in a few."

"Just went there. He wasn't in it." Cole breath became steadier.

"Should we be worried ?" Hermione asked.

"No, no, no !" He answered, slightly panicked.

Hermione's brows furrowed. She was about to ask another question when Cole cut her in her tracks "I'll keep looking for him, he is probably snogging some bird somewhere. See ya !"

He was gone before she had the time to greet him goodbye.

 _Odd…_

She stood still, thinking about the weird encounter she just had with Pollux's best friend, then shook her head and went to join the lads standing next to the apothecary. They were all here, even Tom and Dolohov, and the strange part was that they were laughing together as if nothing had happened.

"Let's go eat !" Milton declared. "I'm starving."

"When are you not hungry ?" Edmund chuckled.

"You literally just ate an entire bar a Honeyduke's chocolate ten minutes ago." Edgard went one further.

As they started bickering they all heading towards the south of town, where everyone was mainly gathered. Hermione could see Tom looking at her and she acted as if nothing happened and started laughing with the lads. As they passed in front of the Swizzle Wand, she slowed her steps and got closer to the pub.

"Come on Grace !" She heard Thorus say loudly.

"Yes I coming." She smiled "I just found it odd…"

She got closer and put both her hands on one of the windows. The shop was dark inside but she could notice that the interior of the bar was ready to welcome dozens of people. The chairs were neatly put around the tables, the glasses were all clean ready for use. Hermione narrowed her eyes and focused a little bit more on the bar. Her gaze dropped to the floor.

A somber liquid was smeared on the floor. She followed it with her eyes to find its source. She saw a hand, sticking out from behind the bar. It was holding a wand and it was not moving. Hermione realised the liquid was blood, and that she was looking at a corpse.

 _What day is it again ?_

"Hortense, are you coming or not ?" Tom almost shouted from afar.

"Wait…" Her voice was barely a whisper.

 _It's the ninth. The ninth of January 1943. It's the ninth. It's the ninth._

The world around her stopped for a second. Everything was in slow motion. Everything clicked in her mind. She turned her head, took a hold on her wand and opened her mouth.

"LADS !" She screamed.

They all turned around, still laughing at a joke Isodor had probably just said when it exploded. The strength of the explosion propelled her backward. Her head violently hit the floor. Everything went dark for a second. Her vision was blurry. Smoke was everywhere. She couldn't hear anything from the tinnitus in both of her ears.

She struggled to sit up. She saw the entire south of the village burning into ashes, she noticed people screaming but couldn't hear any noise coming out of their mouths. She saw the lads on the floor, barely moving. She tried to get up holding the wall. It was covered in shattered glass. The material cut through her skin and she could feel the pain. Once she was up on her feet, she looked on the ground for her wand and grabbed it with her right hand. She walked, limping a bit and got closer to the lads. The noises came back slowly. She felt hands on both her shoulders. Thorus was shouting at her.

"Grace ! Grace ! We have to move !" He had a large cut on his forehead.

"That's why it was closed." She told him.

"What ? We need to run Grace !"

"We need to move !" Abraxas yelled behind them.

Everyone was in the south part. The part that was burning.

She was hearing the cries of pain from everywhere. She was seeing the bodies scattered on the ground.

"We need to go help them." She declared.

Antonin, who was now standing next to Thorus, yelled at her. "Are you out of your fucking mind Hortense ? We need to get the hell out of here !"

Hermione got rid of Thorus' arms on her shoulders and ran towards the source of the explosion.

"Hortense !" Tom shouted.

They were standing tall in the middle of the ashes, wearing all black. There were too many of them for her to properly count. Some students have already started fighting back. Others were taking care of children, protecting them and trying to get them back to the castle.

"What do we do ?" She heard the panicked voice of Isodor ask Tom. "What do we do ?!"

Tom was as lost as them. For once, he didn't know what to do.

So many things were happening that Hermione didn't know where to look at. On her right, she saw a seventh-year boy hurrying third years to run. He had his back towards one of the attackers. The latter, seeing the opportunity before him, got ready to shoot a curse at the older student.

"Stupefy !" Hermione hexed him before he could do anything.

From that moment, everything went fast. She felt all eyes on her. She ran into the battle. She saw a curse coming her way, she hadn't got the time to ducked it and it hit her shoulder. She stumbled backward.

"Reducto." She cast it, still on the move, but the man shielded himself. She cast another, then another.

As she saw someone getting closer to her, she wordlessly sent arrows towards him. They hit him in the legs and he fell down on the ground, screaming. She jumped over the body and kept running. She hid behind a wall and saw the lads, still standing from afar, frozen in shock.

"Don't just stare !" She yelled at them. "Do something !"

Tom grabbed his wand and run towards her. The others split, Isodor, Edmund, Edgard, and Thorus began casting spells while the others helped the injured. Tom pulled her by her shirt and she felt the heat of a spell almost hitting her back. The other four boys joined them, and they all crouched down.

She slightly rose, turned her head above the fragment a wall they were hiding behind and rapidly cast a Confringo. They heard a small explosion followed by a scream.

Hermione realised that the lads were staring at her, expecting her to say something. "We need to protect the younger ones by taking the attackers down. We just need to win some time while the professors get here."

"But we don't know how to fight." Edgard pointed out. "We don't know any spells for that."

They heard another explosion, she turned around a saw a large rock not far from her.

"Wingardium Leviosa." She said. The boulder levitated and she threw it in the direction of two men standing their back at them.

"You don't need to." She said to Edgard.

She gave them a last look then rose on her feet and ran. "Grace !"

And she ran, she cast Expulsos around her. She could hear glass shattering underneath her shoes. The smoke from the explosion became thicker and made her cough. She cast a Bubble-Head Charm. She was able to breathe properly. She stopped in tracks, two wizards blocking her way, both wearing the Deathly Hallows symbol around their neck.

For half a second, the three of them stayed still. Hermione cast a Protego and the two dark wizards threw red spells at her. She threw a Confringo at one of the men. The latter got propelled backward and his back hit a tree in a loud thud.

The other wizard, still standing in front of her, realised that she was no ordinary students. Hermione saw a mocking grin spreading across his face.

"Avada Kedavra !" He almost laughed.

As she saw a green light escape his wand, she dropped to the floor, her chest and chin colliding violently with the ground. The killing curse flew over her head, she followed it with her gaze, making sure it did not hit someone. It blasted the window of a house projecting glass around it.

She rose her head and saw him ready to shoot another spell at her. Wordlessly she sent birds steering at his face. Even though the wizard got distracted, he nonetheless cast an Incarcerous at her. She felt the thick ropes encircling her tiny body. They got tighter and tighter to the point of her not being able to breathe properly.

"Diffindo." She felt the pressure around dissipate. Tom crouched down and helped her get rid of the remains of rope. They both got on their feet. Hermione fixed the man who tried to kill her, not once but twice. Revenge was the only word on her mind.

 _Sectumsempra._

The white spell collided with her opponent. He stood still for a while, but blood began to flow out his clothes. A red puddle began to pool on his feet.

"What is that ?" Tom asked with a mixture of disgust and fascination.

The enemy collapsed on the floor, coughing blood and convulsing. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the body.

"He is dead." The prefect stated emotionless.

"It was either him or us." Hermione defended her actions.

They were now looking at each other. People were running around them and screaming yet everything was still at this moment.

"I know." He answered. He was genuine like he completely understood.

Hermione's gaze focused on what was behind Tom. She saw a dark figure, she held her wand above Tom's shoulder and cast a Bombarda Maxima. She spun around.

For the first time in the last minutes, she finally observed what was going on around her. Students were trying to escape the curses sent by the enemies. The youngest were crying, afraid of every sound and every shot of colors.

The lads were jinxing the opponents trying to gain some time, as she ordered them to. On her left, she saw two of the youngest students on the floor. She got closer and crouched down. One of them tried to explain something to Hermione, but he was crying too much for her to understand.

"H-He won't wake up. He won't wake u-up." The student panicked.

Hermione turned her head and looked at Tom, her eyes pleading for him to help.

"You take care of him, I cover you." He told her.

Hermione got closer to the boy dying on the ground. The sun was setting, and the lighting didn't allow her to see the wound.

"Cast a Lumos." She ordered the crying third-year. He obeyed.

As a soft light escaped from his wand, she finally saw the extent of the injury. The one laying had his entire torso covered in blood. A deep and large gash, from his sternum to his left hip, poured the red body fluid. She lacked to know what to do so she instinctively put both of her hands on it and applied pressure.

She turned her head towards Tom and saw him battling. He was shooting curses at an impressive rate. The spells were not the basic one the others were using. Tom cast spells not made to fight the enemy back but to hurt him, and during this madness, Hermione thought she saw the beginning of a smirk on Tom's lips.

Hermione focused back on the boy dying on her hands.

 _"The Mending Charm is not meant to be used on flesh wounds, as attempting so may create serious scars"_

She didn't know what else to do, so she grabbed her wand, got it close to the wound and whispered Reparo.

The moment the spell escaped her lips the boy began to scream. A piercing scream filled with pain and horror. It resonated all around the battlefield and Hermione couldn't help but feel tears pooling in her eyes.

"Shhh, it's going to be alright." She tried to reassure him. Tears were now flooding her cheeks. "I'm-m sorry, I'm so s-sorry."

Tom turned around as he heard the scream. He saw her, blood all over her hands and hair. The tears on her face and the soothing words coming out of her mouth. Then he saw the kid, the one begging for death, as his chest was being patched-up slowly together.

Tom had never seen something this ignoble in his entire life. During this tiny moment of inattentiveness, the enemy behind him got the time to throw a dark severing curse at him.

If Tom had not turned his head towards the latter, he would have had his carotid cut. Instead, he received the curse on the right part on his face.

If Tom had not closed his eyes at this moment, he would have been one eye blind. Instead, he just received the scar that will last for his entire lifetime.

Hermione finally realised that she was entirely covered in the kid's blood.

"What did you do ?" She heard from above, in a horrified voice.

She lifted her head and saw Miss Asphodela.

"I-I didn't know what else to do." She replied, the words breaking as she spoke. "He was bleeding out."

"Okay okay, right, you saved him."

She felt a hand grabbing her wrist and pulling her from the ground. She saw Tom staring at her, blood covering the right part of his face. Hermione realised, by looking around, that the professors were here along with Aurors.

"EVERY STUDENT GO BACK TO THE CASTLE." She heard the voice of Armando Dippet say using the Sonorus charm.

"Come on Hortense, we need to go back." Tom told her.

They walked around the bodies on the floor, their breath ragged from what had just happened. The lads were all gathered meters away, Isodor had a huge gash on his tight and was leaning on Thorus who seemed to have lost all colors on his face. Dolohov was standing straight with a broken nose. Edgard was holding his left wrist as if it was broken. Edmund had a part of his forehead burned as did Milton on his shoulder. The only one who seemed neat was Malfoy, apart from his pointy chin covered in blood.

By their reaction as the saw them walking towards them, Hermione understood that Tom and she must have looked terrifying, all bloodied, an aghast look on their face.

Even though Dippet had asked the students to go back to the castle, some of them were still fighting and the others wanted to help more.

She saw Dumbledore talking to the Headboy, who was apparently missing a finger. "You have helped, now enough. You go gather everyone and go back to the castle. Let the adults deal with it."

"No ! We want to fight !" The seventh-year replied.

Hermione saw that the Headboy was not going to back down. Dumbledore rose his wand, flicked it towards the sky and a bright pale blue light illuminated the battlefield. A dome appeared around the fighting area, creating a barrier between the students and the adults.

"Go back to the castle. Help young students. Get them to the infirmary. Help them mend their wounds." Dumbledore said in a stone cold voice. He gave one last look at the student then crossed the dome.

Eileen Wu, the 16 years old Slytherin prefect followed Dumbledore without thinking and got through the pale veil.

The HeadBoy, a 17 years old Ravenclaw, followed Dumbledore without thinking and didn't get through the pale veil.

"We can get through" Edmond said.

"And it's not an age limit" Edgard completed.

More older students tried to get into. Some of them, prepared enough got in, the others got stuck outside the barrier.

Tom and Hermione shared a look.

"Guys, dont..." Isodor started.

Tom and Hermione nodded.

They walked side by side. Hermione's heart beating faster as she approached the blue dome. Without hesitating, she crossed the limit and found herself inside. She turned her head to the left looking at Tom.

But he wasn't there.

She turned around and saw him behind the dome, incomprehension printed on his pale face.

"Behind you !" He yelled.

Hermione turned around and crouched down at the same time. The green spell hit the dome and the latter absorbed the shock in a deafening sound. She took a hold on her wand and without thinking slashed it, causing deep gashes in her enemy's shins. He fell down on the ground and she stunned him.

She quickly got up and noticed that only eight other students were inside. The dark wizards were not simply trying to hurt anymore, they were aiming to kill. She was in front of a wall of humans, she couldn't see anything.

She looked around her, searching for a way to get more visibility. On her right was the remain of a wall. She quickly got on it and spot a curse coming right at her. She jumped on what seemed to be a table. She was standing he what used to be a pub. She busied herself casting spells after spells, dark or light, he didn't matter. Hermione heard a loud thud behind her and saw a tall man standing on a table opposite to hers.

Everything went fast. He shot curses after curses, she ducked, she cast back, she jumped from table to table and he followed her. She quickly turned around and saw him getting closer. She cast an Evanesco and the table underneath him disappeared.

She heard his neck breaking and she winced from the sound. She jumped off the table and landed badly on her feet. She got back to where she was standing at the beginning, on her right the raging battlefield and on her left the blue barrier.

T

hree meters away from her was standing a fifty-year-old wizard, ready to kill her. After 45 seconds of fighting, she took a drastic decision and cast a dark spell, shattering into pieces every bone in his right arm, the one holding the wand. The man fell on his knees and screamed from the pain. There was no blood, no open wound, just pure pain.

"Please !" He begged.

The colours of the spells were illuminating her face : red, purple, green. She cocked her head to the right.

 _Silencio._

And she left him.

Diagonally from her, she saw a man staring at her. He had apparently noticed the action. He was ready to cast something but she Accioed his wand. She broke it in two from rage.

She hadn't realised that someone was in front of her. "Expelliarmus." The latter said.

She succeeded in getting a grip on her wand and it fell at her feet. A panicked look came upon her face.

 _What do you do now Hermione ?_

In the spark of the moment, Hermione put her hand into a fist and punched the man in the jaw. She curled up from the pain, sensing her broken thumb inside her fist. She took the opportunity to pick up her wand. She was about to stand back up but she felt a hand pressing on her head, forcing her to stay low.

"Fucking look around you !" a seventh-year Gryffindor told her as he shot a curse at the man she had just punched.

They were now standing back-to-back, covering each other. Behind the dome, at the far left, she saw the lads.

The look on their faces confirmed what she was thinking : she was not the Grace they knew. She was not Grace at this moment. She was purely herself.

Three minutes passed when she felt the Gryffindor behind her falling on her. She slightly turned around and he fell backward. She stopped him by the shoulders and got a huge splash of blood on her face. He had his throat slit open. Out of horror, she let go of him and his body hit the ground.

Her gaze found the man who just murdered a fellow student. He was mad, laughing out loud. And she was burning inside. He mouthed "Wanna play ?" then started running north of the village. She saw red. She followed him.

"Grace !" She heard Cole shout behind her, outside of the dome. She turned her head. He was alone.

"Where's Pollux ?" She whispered to herself.

 _You'll find him later._

She resumed running. She ducked, jumped, slid over and under every obstacles and curses on her way. She found herself in the middle of the north part. It was deserted and it looked just like it did at the beginning of the afternoon. She was following the noise of boots on the snow. They were both in a small alley and silence surrounding them.

The man wanted to talk, to play but she had neither the time nor the patience for it. She was blinded by the hatred inside of her.

"Exantera Vivorum." She stated emotionless.

As he heard the words, his eyes widened. A dark grey light came out of her wand. It hit him in the guts. He slowly fell on his knees, he was not laughing anymore. She turned around, not even caring about his death.

Hermione started walking, she closed her eyes as she heard the body hit the ground behind her. She had never used the Entrail-Expelling curse before.

She passed in front of the Swizzle Wand. The first thing she heard was the noise of boots on pieces of glass, then the whispered voice of two men. She got closer.

"You know I am right." One said.

"You went too far." Dumbledore replied.

 _What…_

"You were not saying that before. You had the same vision, the same goals, the same ideals. We were supposed to share that together."

She filled the blanks, she understood. Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore were having a private conversation, inside a bar, while a raging battle was taking place just outside.

"Students ! Children ! You are out of your mind Gellert. I could never support something like that." The Transfiguration professor barked.

"But you did. You created it ! It was your idea. And now ? You turned your back on me ?!" Grindelwald spat.

"I did that a long time ago."

Hermione took one step closer. A ring bell resonated. She lowered her gaze on her feet and realised she had just kicked the doorbell which had fallen on the floor. She quickly ran away, not knowing if they had seen her or not. She hurried to get back inside the dome. She only had the time to throw two or three spells that Grindewald's voice echoed in the dome. "It's over. Go."

Every one of his supporters took a hold on the necklace around their necks and disappeared.

 _Portkeys._

She spun around and saw Tom. He had stayed during the entire battle. They stared at each other.

"It's snowing." A girl simply stated

 _OoOoO_

09.01.1943 :

"But it wasn't. It was ashes." She concluded.

Slughorn was staring at her. His eyes were filled with humanity and horror. But Hermione was looking at the teacup which was bloodied, used and broken.

* * *

 **Notes : Hi guys, hope you enjoy it ! Part II is coming **

**We have decided to cut this chapter in two parts because too much was happening, as you saw...**

 **Badass!Hermione is finally here !**

 **Thanks for your support and reviews.**

 **Lots of love,**

 **-DDM's Managers**


	11. A TEMPEST IN A TEACUP - PART II

**Dying is a Delicate Moment**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

Thoughts are written in _Italics_

Big Lines : New POV

OoOoOo : Sames POV / Time Lapse

 **CHAPTER ELEVEN : A TEMPEST IN A TEACUP - PART II**

We highly recommend to re-read the last chapter because this is the second part and it's obviously connected.

* * *

09.01.1943:

They were walking down the corridors. They were talking in hushed voices. They were trying to find out how something like that could have happened just before their eyes without anyone anticipating it. They elaborated some theories, but none of them were satisfactory enough.

Dumbledore and Dippet were focused on the words coming out of the Head Auror mouth. Since he had arrived in the auror department thirty years ago, he had always been one of those who wanted to change everything for the better. He had worked many hours, had almost lost his life more times than he could count but in the end, he had made a change.

Until tonight.

Tonight Auror Mator was lost. Unable to figure out how the entire attack had happened. In fact, none of them knew. Slughorn was talking to the other auror present giving him a precise list of all the potions the matron would need to treat the wounded.

They walked beside a group of students, chatting enthusiastically but still in low voices.

"... I think he is in the infirmary." One of them said.

On a normal night, the professors and Aurors would have told the students to go back to their dorm, but on this night, every student who felt well enough to talk was a good thing. So they just kept walking.

"...But Gracie knew. She told us. How come she didn't know if she yelled at us seconds before the explosion then ?"

Slughorn turned around. "What did you just say Mister Mulciber ?"

"Nothing professor. He is just under shock." Isodor quickly answered.

"I heard it too." Dolohov announced. "She called us seconds before the attack. Not to get our attention, but more like a warning." Antonin locked eyes with the potions professor, an invisible smile on his lips.

"She knew."

OoOoOo

09.01.1943:

Hermione could not remember how she got to the infirmary. But here she was, standing straight and blood dripping from her clothes, in a room full of crying children. As she looked around her, she noticed that all eyes were on her. She wondered if it was due to how she looked at the moment or what she had just done. She stopped thinking and focused on finding the matron.

With the bustle around her, it was difficult to even distinguish the students from the medical staff. She put her left foot first and began walking, at least she tried. Every step she took shot an electric pain in her left ankle. However, after a couple of minutes of walking around the infirmary, the pain lessened. She saw, at the end of the room, the matron talking to two nurses. She quickened her pace and arrived at her level.

Miss Asphodela nodded at the two nurses then turned around and faced Hermione.

"Miss Hortense, you need to get checked." She took her by the shoulder and began guiding her towards a bed.

"How is he ?" Hermione cut her.

By the look on the matron face, Hermione knew that she had understood who she was referencing to.

'He is alive Miss Hortense." She replied with empathy.

"He is alive." Hermione repeated in a low voice.

"You saved his life." The matron reassured her and added a little more pressure on her shoulder to show her support.

"Did I ?" Hermione let out a humourless laugh.

"You did what you had to do Grace." Hermione noticed that it was the first time the matron had used her first name. "You saved his life, no matter what."

Hermione closed her eyes and the images came back in flashes. The reparo, the skin patching up and most of all the screams.

"Tobias Wilmerton is alive thanks to you Grace. Do not forget that." She smiled. "You need to sit down now and make sure you are not wounded."

Hermione turned around and started walking toward a bed. She stopped in her tracks as she saw Tom sitting on one of them with half of his face covered in blood. A nurse was examining his injuries. As she touched the skin around his right eye, Tom hissed.

Hermione sat on a bed on the other side of the room, her eyes still stuck on the fifth year Slytherin.

"Is it going to scar ?" Tom asked in a hushed voice.

"You received a dark curse Mister…" The nurse said.

"Riddle." He completed.

"You should be glad just to be alive."

With a flick of a wand, the blood on his face disappeared. Hermione silently gasped as she saw his face. A large gash was visible just near his eye.

"This is going to hurt Mister Riddle." The nurse told him before saying a spell.

Tom bit his lips as the gash reduced and the skin glued back together. Once the spell was done, the nurse gave him a small nod then left him alone, sitting on the bed, feeling the scar underneath his fingers. He turned his face and saw Hermione looking at him. He dropped his hand as if to stop her to think he was upset about it. He lifted his head and straightened his back.

The large gash was no longer on his face. A pale pink scar, starting just above his eyebrow going down to the middle of his right cheek before arching towards his right ear, was the only remaining.

They just kept staring at each other. The infirmary's door open in a loud thud and all the noises stopped altogether. Everyone turned their heads towards the entrance. Dippet, followed by Dumbledore and Slughorn entered the room. A couple of seconds later, the lads and two Aurors joined them. Once Slughorn noticed Hermione sitting on a bed, he rushed towards her.

"Miss Hortense, please follow me." The professor whispered.

She stood up and slowly walked towards the exit. Her body was moving without her noticing. Everything was still a blur in her mind. She felt all eyes on her. She glanced at the lads and noticed Dolohov smiling. Not the typical smile he could sometimes have. This one was filled with slyness.

"Where is she going ?" She heard Miss Asphodela ask behind her. "She is covered in blood and no one has checked her injuries yet."

"Everything is fine. Please show yourself out if you have been healed." Dippet reassured the students.

She left the room alongside Slughorn, Dumbledore and who seemed to be the Head Auror by the badge he had on his black robes.

They walked a few minutes in silence before arriving in front of Slughorn's private appartments.

"I need to talk to the parents." The Head Auror said. "Horace, please find me once this is dealt with."

On this, he left Hermione alone with her two professors. She quickly looked at Dumbledore. Her heart started beating faster in her chest. She finally remembered that she had seen something she ought not to. Her mind began wondering what would happen if Dumbledore noticed she had witnessed his conversation with Grindelwald.

 _You're not sure he had seen you. If not, you have nothing to worry about._

"Horace, as Deputy Headmaster it is my responsibility to…"

"Grace, could you please wait for me inside. There is tea ready." Slurghorn ordered her.

Hermione nodded, gave a last quick glance at her transfiguration teacher then entered the private apartments. She left the door slightly open for her to hear the conversation taking place right outside.

She approached a large leather chair and sat. She extended her hand to reach a cup. She noticed the state of her hands. Blood was smeared up to her elbow. She began shaking. She took the teacup in her hand and poured some tea in it. The shaking became more violent and she almost dropped the beverage on the ground. She took a deep breath. She tried to focus on the teacup instead of the macabre images in her head.

The teacup was chipped.

"No Albus."

It was tiny, almost invisible.

"You have no say in this."

But the cup was chipped.

"She is my student, my responsibility."

Like a scar on porcelain skin.

"You will leave us alone."

OoOoOo

09.01.1943:

"But it wasn't. It was ashes." She concluded.

Slughorn was staring at her. His eyes were filled with humanity and horror. But Hermione was looking at the teacup which was bloodied, used and broken.

"Why am I here professor ?" She finally asked.

"It came to our attention that you knew about the attack before it happened." He answered looking her in the eyes.

"It came to your attention ?" Hermione repeated. "What are you implying professor ?"

"Nothing Grace. This is not an interrogation. We heard Mister Mulciber say that you warned them a couple of seconds before the explosion. This was confirmed by Mister Dolohov."

Hermione shut her mouth. "I did not do anything professor." She said after a minute of silence.

"I know that Grace."

She nodded.

"You should go to the infirmary Grace." He finished.

Hermione stood up, looked around her one last time then took a few steps towards the exit. She put her right hand on the doorknob and began turning it. She stopped in her tracks as she heard his voice.

"We have found a body in the south part of the town." She froze, her hand still on the doorknob, her back at him. "The dark wizard had been subjected to the disembowelment curse." Hermione closed her eyes.

"Did you found the person accountable for it ?" She asked, her voice tight.

"No. We didn't."

"Professor…" She started.

"My guess is that we won't." He cut her.

She turned around. They looked at each other, well aware of what the other was thinking.

"It was a massacre over there. No one knows who did what." He concluded.

 _Of course he knows Hermione. Of course he knows it was you. Thank god you are valuable to him._

She nodded, turned back again, opened the door and left. She leaned for a couple of seconds on the now-closed door.

She exhaled and felt like she could breathe for the first time in the last hours.

 _It's going to be okay Hermione._

She pushed herself from the door and began walking. Even though the entire castle was awake and the lights were on, this part of the castle, the dungeons, was still dark.

 _It was not in there._

 _It was not in there._

 _For fuck sakes, it was not in there._

Her pace was slow. It was not deliberate but her mind was too focused on something else to realize that she was walking slowly.

 _How could it not be in there ?_

 _You were so sure Hermione._

 _If it was not there, wher-_

She felt someone grabbing her wrist violently. She rose her head and saw Tom's scarred face. She got used to seeing him every day in the last months but with the fresh scar covering a part of his face, she felt as if it was the first time she met him. And she was scared.

His eyes were dark and filled with anger.

"Wha-" She started.

"What did you tell him ?" He cut her in a menacing voice.

"What are you talking about ?"

He shot her a look she had never seen directed towards her. She had seen it earlier with Dolohov. Tom was not angry at this moment nor furious. He was mad.

"What did you tell him ?" He repeated with a clenched jaw.

"I-I.." She tried to speak.

She was frozen. Hermione had never felt so vulnerable and afraid in front of a fifteen years old boy.

"I told him what had happened today." Hermione finally answered.

"Did you tell him everything ?"

"No I did not."

OoOoOo

09.01.1943:

As she walked alone south of the village, the chatting noise of the students talking loudly distanced from her. This part of town seemed almost deserted. This area wasn't known for being popular, except for the Swizzle Wand at the end of the road. With this main attraction closed for the day, only a few people were wandering around.

She saw the second-hand book shop Forgotten Books on her left and she opened the door. The old man, probably the longtime owner, was sitting behind the counter. He wasn't known for being the most polite person on earth so it was totally normal that they didn't greet each other. She walked down the aisles, getting herself lost in the mountains of books.

She lost herself for an hour in this bookshop reading the abstracts of some of the strangest books. She had chosen four at the end of this hour : _Progress in Centaurs' legislation - a thesis on how to make a change_ , _Architectural timeline of the oldest castles in Great Britain_ , _Why should we listen to what elves have to say ?_ and _Wandlore : The Art of Crafting the Ultimate Magical Tool._

She put the books down her enchanted purse and left the boutique. A small group of people walked in front of her, heading north. A man, walking opposite, stood out. He was not wearing particular clothes nor had a peculiar haircut. He just didn't seem to belong here.

Instinctively, Hermione started following him. She made sure to stay a few meters behind. He turned left in an empty street. She stopped. She looked around her to find a place to hide.

The man waited a bit in the alley then a dark figure appeared at the end of the street. As the figure moved closer, Hermione could distinguish his features. Brown hair perfectly styled, piercing dark eyes and slight smirk on his lips.

"Do you have it ?" Tom asked in a hurry, slightly annoyed.

"Yes. 7 galleons." The man replied.

"You told me five."

"And now it is seven."

Tom stared at the man then put out the money from his pocket and handed it. The man got a book out of his robes and hesitated before giving it to Tom. Hermione got to notice the title: _Secrets of the darkest art._ She knew it. She had stolen it. She had read it. And it was dark.

"How old are you again ?" He asked.

"As long as I pay, you don't need to know my age." Tom replied.

Standing in his Hogwarts robes, Tom gave the man a look. "Take the money, give me the book and leave." He continued in a low voice. The man complied.

After the exchange, the man left and Tom was alone. He turned around and saw Hermione. They looked at each other, then his gaze fell to the book he was holding in his right hand. He rose his eyes once again to face hers but she was staring at the volume. Once she looked back at him, a silent conversation took place.

 **I know what that book is. No you do not. Why did you buy it ? It does not concern you.**

"Kiddo !"

She spun around and saw Pollux grinning approaching her. His smile fell once he stood in front of her. "You look tired." He told her.

She let out a humorless laugh. "Well, thanks."

OoOoOo

09.01.1943 :

"Did you tell him everything ?"

"No I did not."

They stared at each other in silence. She was looking at his scar and he was looking at the blood covering her face.

"Miss Hortense." They heard.

They both turned around startled and saw professor Dumbledore walking towards them.

"May I have a word with you?" He asked once he arrived at their level. The transfiguration teacher gave a pointed look at Tom, ordering him to leave them alone. The latter gave one last glance at Hermione, stepped back and left. Dumbledore started striding back towards the dungeons and Hermione felt as if she had to follow him. She looked above a shoulder and saw Tom.

 _How could he leave when he knew something was up ?_

"How are you feeling ?" Dumbledore asked once they stopped.

If Hermione were an ordinary student she would have felt special. The Deputy Headmaster asking her personally how she was. However, at this precise moment, her entire body tensed. His voice was not particularly cold nor calculated but it lacked the warmth the situation should have brought.

"Mostly tired." She replied honestly.

He cocked his head slightly to the left and remained silent for a couple of seconds. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on her behind his demi circular glasses. Hermione's mind was racing. Should she say something ? Should she wait for him to talk about the subject she was scared to broach ?

Her thoughts were cut when he spoke up.

"Do you know how you got into the dome Miss Hortense ?"

She wondered if it was a rhetorical question or if he was genuinely interested in her theories. By the prolonged silence that followed his question, she opted for the latter.

"The dome let prepared people in. I believe it took both the physical condition and the mental state into consideration before letting anyone in." She replied. "Thus, it let me in Professor."

 _As did the goblet of fire during your fourth year Hermione when choosing the students capable of competing._

"You are completely right Miss Hortense. The dome found you prepared to fight. May I add that you fought well ?"

Hermione squinted a little, trying to figure out the tone he had just used.

"How could you have known that I fought well Professor ? You weren't there." She stated.

She saw something in Dumbledore's eyes the moment she said the last three words. He had seen her earlier today and now she was sure of it. From years of knowing him in her own timeline, she knew he wouldn't refute the fact but he would justify it.

"A war does not only take place on the battlefield Miss Hortense."

"On a battlefield brimming with students Professor. They were fighting for you Professor, and you weren't there."

 _You are never there Professor._

Hermione just realised that she had never witnessed Dumbledore fight. He had always been the mastermind, plotting and giving orders. Yet, he was never in the heat of action.

 _" **Dumbledore… He… He fooled me."**_ Hermione remembered. Harry's voice resonated in her head as she glared at the transfiguration teacher.

 _In fifty years, Dumbledore would fool Harry and tonight Hermione, he will try to fool you too._

"Before making war Miss Hortense, we play it." Dumbledore retorted.

" _Play it_?" She repeated taken aback. "This is not a game Professor. People died. A student died !" Hermione rose her voice.

 **Three minutes passed when she felt the Gryffindor behind her falling on her. She slightly turned around and he fell backward. She stopped him by the shoulders and got a huge splash of blood on her face. He had his throat slit open. Out of horror, she let go of him and his body hit the ground.**

"Edison Morsten's death is a tragedy but in every war there are casualties." He explained. "And you, Miss Hortense, are well-placed to know that."

Dumbledore was not talking to a student at this moment but to an adult, capable of understanding what being in a war meant. Hermione opened her mouth to spit back but stopped. She analysed his face and realised that he looked tired, exhausted even.

"Is it a game then ?" Hermione finally said. He looked at her in confusion, not fully understanding how she got to this conclusion. "You didn't refute the fact that this was a game to you Professor."

"Miss Hortense…"

"Then I hope we didn't disturb your game too much by fighting to death meters away Professor." She cut him.

"Miss Hortense." He said in a firm voice. "I understand that after the day you just had you may be tired and emotional but keep in mind that I _am_ your professor."

A heavy silence settled and they glared at each other. She was about to answer back and Dumbledore understood that so he rose his eyes and looked upon her shoulder.

"Tom." He called in a loud voice. "Since you are still here, please take Miss Hortense to the infirmary. She had not been treated yet."

 _Of course he never left. He knew something was up._

The Deputy Headmaster looked back at her. "I hope that you are smart enough to know what can and cannot be said." He turned around and left Tom and Hermione alone.

"Well, I did not know you had it in you Hortense." Tom told her.

"What ?" She turned her head to face him.

"You were about to insult a professor. Was he talking about ?" Hermione didn't answer so Tom kept going. "It was not about that and you are not going to tell me anything about the discussion you have just had with him, right ?"

 _He is finally starting to know you._

"Right."

They stayed, just the two of them, in an empty hallway for a couple of minutes. It was the first time since the beginning of the attack that there was a real silence. Deafening. She felt her muscles becoming heavier, her wounds beginning to burn and her blood pulsing in her left ankle.

They began walking down to the infirmary. Every step she took with her left leg sent flashes of pain up her body. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from sobbing. Tears pooled in her eyes. She clenched her fists.

"Fuck !" She exhaled. She curled up.

"Hortense ?" Tom asked, a small quiver of concern in his voice.

She turned her right hand, palm up, and saw her swelled-up thumb turning purple and she began to laugh.

"It's broken." She chuckled.

"You finally lost it." He replied confused.

Hermione finally straightened her back. Her cheeks were wet from tears. Tom, his eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment, examined her. His gaze finally settled on her right hand.

"You broke your thumb." He stated.

"By fucking punching a guy in the face."

"Come on Hortense, let's go to the infirmary."

She met his eyes. "I can't." Tom waited for her to give the reason why. "I think I also broke my ankle."

He exhaled exasperated and realised she was favoring her right leg. He crouched down a little and cast a _Ferula_. A splint appeared around her left ankle. He took her right arm and settled it around his shoulders to help her walk.

"Come on." He said.

Hermione was a little taken aback by how easy it was for him to touch her. She was expecting him to reach for help or just not caring at all. She didn't expect him to actually help though.

They walked in silence for a bit. Hermione was now remembering the entire day. Her mind went back to Tobias.

"He survived you know." She spoke up.

"Hm ?" He replied, his gaze still focused in front of him.

"Tobias Wilmerton."

"Who ?" Tom asked, obviously not caring about what she was about to tell him.

"The third-year I healed."

"Healed ?" He snickered. "You _messed_ him up."

Hermione stopped walking and without even thinking shoved him against the nearest wall in spite of her broken ankle. She put her wand underneath his chin. "Don't you dare laugh about that." She threatened him, guilt rising in her guts.

Even though she must have looked terrifying with the blood covering her face and her wand pointed towards him, Tom could still see a vulnerability and smirked.

"You should have let him die."

"Don't." She groaned while pushing her wand further in his skin.

"Reparo should be used on a broken plate, not a human body. You should know that Hortense, it is a first-year spell." Her eyes became wet. "I wanted to vomit when I saw you doing it."

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up." Hermione repeated, never letting go of her wand.

"What are you going to do ? Kill me ?" He taunted her. "I would not be your first."

Hermione was ready to throw a curse at him. She was almost ready to kill him at this instant and that thought scared her. She lowered her wand and quickly took a step back, her eyes still locked on him.

"How does it feel ?" He smirked.

 _How does it feel ? Taking the life out of someone ?_

 _The first person you killed was not voluntary. You only tried to hurt him. You cried all night._

 _The second person you killed was intentional. You cried all night because you didn't regret it._

 _And from the third one, you stopped crying._

Behind the taunting, Hermione could see the sincerity behind his question. "You're disgusting." She spat.

 _You're disgusting too._

"I am disgusting ? You used the mending charm on a kid. You slaughtered a man and you didn't give him a quick death. He bled out. And _I_ am the disgusting one ?" He let out a small laugh. "Take a good look in the mirror Hortense."

"Fuck you Riddle." She concluded. She turned around and limped towards the infirmary. As she was about to turn left she heard Tom yell behind her. "Interesting spell by the way."

As she walked alone, she was surrounded by the silence around her. The corridors were deserted and all she could hear was her breath and her steps on the stone floor. She pushed open the infirmary doors. The calm she had experienced a couple of seconds prior had just been replaced by chaos. She limped her way to a bed when someone called her name.

"Grace ?"

She turned her head to the left and saw him. He approached her.

"Why are you covered in blood ?" He scanned her face. "Are you hurt ?" He searched for any open wounds. "Where are the blood nurses in here ?" He looked around.

"Abe, Abe." Hermione said. "I'm fine. Calm down."

"No, you're obviously not. And sit down." She obeyed at his authoritarian voice.

"Leonara." Abe called the matron.

The latter gave him a sign to wait and resumed healing another student.

Hermione tried to give him a smile to reassure him. It didn't work.

"What happened to you ?" He asked her. "Don't tell me you got in." After a small silence, he resumed. "Of course you got in. I totally freaked out. Pollux told me you were supposed to meet him at the bar. You never showed up. So I went here immediately after the battle. And here you are. You entir.. Why are you smiling ?"

"I am glad to see you too Abe." She chuckled.

"This is not funny Grace. I was genuinely panicked. Pollux told me you would be there in twenty minutes then I heard the explosion and…"

"You saw Pollux ?"

"Yes, I just told you that."

"When ?" Hermione started worrying about Pollux again.

"About fifteen minutes before the attack. Why ?"

"Have you seen him since ?" She rose from her seat.

"Grace sit down. He is not here but…"

 _He is dead._

Her head started turning and her legs began shaking. She looked right at Abe with wide eyes. He put both of his hands on her shoulders to stop her from panicking. His lips moved yet she couldn't hear a thing.

 _He is dead. Pollux is dead._

She stared at his lips and thought she discerned _St Mungos_ , she snapped back to reality.

"Lots of students were sent there." Abe finished.

"He is at St Mungos." She repeated to herself like a mantra.

"He _might_ be." Abe insisted.

"Abelforth let her breathe." Leonara said approaching the two.

The nurse took him by the arm and they both moved away from her. Even though they were not beside her, Hermione could still hear their conversation.

"She is having a panic attack." Miss Asphodela whispered.

"Have you seen Pollux Parkinson ? Or heard anything regarding him ?"

"I already told you. We don't have a precise list of students transferred to St Mungo's."

"How many were killed ?"

"Three for the moment. On the battlefield." She replied giving the names of the three dead students. "Two others are in an alarming state."

 _He is not dead. Pollux is not dead._

Her breath became steadier.

"Here, take this." Miss Asphodela told her at the same time as she put a calming draught in her hand.

"I feel better there is no need."

"Miss Hortense, take the potion."

"I just told you I didn't need it." Hermione snapped, pushing the draught away from her.

The nurse gave her a suspicious look then examined her. A few healing spells later, her wounds closed and her bones mended. "Stay here two more minutes, just for your bones to be strong enough for you to walk back to your dorm. Then take a shower and sleep." Miss Asphodela gave her a small nod then went away.

"Are you feeling better ?" Abe asked her.

"I think."

"You heard Leonara. Go shower and rest."

"I'll wait. Maybe there will be news about Pollux."

"No sweetheart. I'll stay here and take care of that. You need to sleep."

Abe kissed her forehead and she smiled at him. As he walked away, she looked around her. Her mind not focusing on anything. She heard whispers and felt eyes on her. Her eyes fell upon the lads, standing across from her, a couple of meters away. They were all staring at her. She didn't tear her gaze away.

Isodor was lying on the bed with a large bandage covering his right thigh while the others were gathered around him.

"Are you feeling alright Hortense ?" Abraxas asked her.

The usual disdain present in his voice was gone and replaced by what seemed respect.

"I'm fine Malfoy. Are you lads okay ?" Hermione answered.

"Living my best life." Isodor joked from his bed. She chuckled and got up.

She put her left foot first and felt no pain. She continued walking through the crowded room. She was only a few meters away from the door when the latter opened violently.

"Where is my son !" A fifty years old man yelled as he entered.

Hermione looked behind the man and saw Dippet, alongside Dumbledore, the Aurors and the four candidates -Malfoy, Tuft, Rosier, and Lestrange- quickly reaching for him.

"Mister Morsten, please…" Dippet slowly said.

"Where is my son !?" He repeated. He seemed panicked, looking around him, his arms trying to grab anyone who could help him find his son. Although Hermione knew that he wouldn't.

"Mister Morsten." The head Auror approached the distraught man. "We should have this conversation somewhere else."

"I just want to see my son. I just want to see Edison."

Hermione felt her heart sank as she watched the father sob. He was fisting Mator's black robes, his hands becoming white as he added more pressure. She felt as if the world had just stopped. And for a moment it did. There were no sounds other than the cries of a sonless father. There was no movement other than the father's shaking shoulders. There was just pure agony, and everyone felt it.

Hermione thought about his son. His throat split, his eyes wide open in shock. A father should never see his son in this condition.

"Edwin." The other Auror whispered. As he heard his name, his head snapped up. "Come with us."

"You !" Edwin yelled, pointing his finger at Dumbledore. "You were supposed to keep him at bay."

Hermione understood how Edwin Morsten could feel betrayed. Everyone relied on Dumbledore to keep Grindelwald away from England. And today he had failed.

"It is not Professor Dumbledore's fault." Tuft intervened. "No one's at fault."

"You are at fault. All of you ! With your bloody promises. You have blood on your hands ! All of you ! How could you have let this happen ?! He was a child. He was my son." His words got cut by large sobs.

Hermione felt a lump in her throat.

 _But they did something._

Tuft had always known that something like that would happen sooner or later. So she had taken the matter in her own hands : more protections around the castle, dozens of Aurors ready to intervene if necessary, the discussion she had had with Dumbledore and Dippet about the necessity of shield - the Dome -. She had done something but as Dumbledore had said, there are always casualties in a war.

Hermione's eyes fell on the transfiguration professor and she understood at this moment what he had meant.

"I put him on the train this morning…" The father kept crying. Iru Mator, the Head Auror, took him by the shoulders and guided him out of the room. Dippet tried to calm the students, and Dumbledore stayed still. Hermione thought that he had never looked as old as he did at this precise moment. She wiped the tears off her cheeks and left the room.

She was taking the last step leading her to the Slytherin common room. Only a few meters and she would find the peace of her dorm.

"... I've searched for you everywhere ! Did you even look for me ?!" Cassandre almost shouted.

 _This day is never going to end._

A loud silence followed the youngest Parkinson's question. Hermione kept walking, not wanting to interfere with the drama going on not far from her.

"You've never replied to any of my letters. We were supposed to meet this morning, you never showed up. I kept waiting for you. What happened ?" Cassandre asked with a mix of concern and anger in his voice.

"Nothing happened Cassandre." Walburga coldly answered.

"Then why ?"

"It was a mistake from the beginning Cassandre."

"What are you talking about ? We were supposed to run away together. We promised."

"And I made a promise to my family."

"Your family ? You fucking hate your family Walburga. Don't pull that shit on me."

"It doesn't matter if I like them or not. I have a duty towards them. I could never betray them."

Hermione saw the Slytherim common room door at the end of the hallway and prayed to the gods to reach it quickly.

"Open your eyes Cassandre. It was never going to work. This is going nowhere. And even if I could marry into the Parkinson family, it would have never been you. It would have been your brother. You're not the heir."

Hermione stopped as she heard the harsh words, her eyes wide open.

"Is it about that then ? Pollux ? It always fucking about him." Cassandre shouted, blinded by hatred not understanding what Walburga had just meant. "Fuck him !"

Hermione started walking again, quickening her pace.

"No Cassandre, it's…" Walburga's words were cut as Hermione closed the door behind her.

She let her head fall on the door, closed her eyes and just breathed. Her mind was blank, not thinking about anything. She couldn't hear a sound, the common room was empty. She finally began to calm down and felt the tiredness drowning her senses.

"Kiddo ?" A quiet voice said.

Her heart raced, her eyes opened in half a second and her head turned to the left, where the sound came from. Pollux was lying on a couch near the fireplace, his eyes not completely opened. Hermione approached him, shaking. He rose up into a sitting position, his hands rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes. She didn't let him take a real look at her that she closed her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder.

"Wow kiddo calm down, let me take a hangover potion first." He chuckled.

Hermione realised that he was stinking alcohol. Again. She let go of him and he finally really looked at her.

"Grace ?!" He stood up and took her by the shoulders. "What the fuck happened to you ?"

"You don't know ?" Hermione's voice broke a little. She spent the day worrying about him when he was passed out from alcohol in the common room. "There was an attack."

"What ?!" He looked around him, panicked. "Where's Cassandre ?"

 _" **Is it about that then ? Pollux ? It always fucking about him. Fuck him !"**_

"He's fine. Don't worry about him."

"And Cole ? Abe ? You ?! You're soaking in blood."

"I'm fine."

"Okay, stay there. Don't move. I just need to see him. I-I just need to see my little brother. I'll be right back. Don't move."

Pollux looked right at her one last time then left the common room. Hermione found herself alone. She wanted to snap at him, cry on his shoulder, hug him, slap him. She had too many emotions overwhelming her at this moment. She realised that she had been controlled by her emotion the entire night, going from angry to scared to depressed to angry again. She just needed to sleep.

She turned around and climbed the stairs to her room. All of her roommates, expect for Walburga, were asleep. Hermione got closer to her bed with catlike stealth and found a steaming cup of tea next to a handwritten note. She recognized Slughorn's writing : _Dreamless potion_.

Hermione took the teacup in her right hand and flowed her thumb over the porcelain.

It was not chipped anymore.

* * *

 _ **Author's notes :**_

 **Hi guys,**

 **Sorry for the delay. But we're back !**

 **Obviously Pollux is not dead and Tom is still a little bitch**

 **Btw we made a YearBook photosop of all the characters : you can find it on our Tumblr / agarariddle-andhernachos**

 **We're living in the same city again so it should be easier for us to work on ddm.**

 **Thank you so so much for all of our reviews !**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter :)**

 **Lots of love**

 **-DDM's Managers**


	12. WORLD GONE MAD

**Dying is a Delicate Moment**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

Thoughts are written in Italics

Big line : New POV

OoOoOo : Same POV / Time lapse

 **CHAPTER TWELVE : WORLD GONE MAD**

* * *

 _Song : World Gone Mad by Bastille_

16.01.1943 :

"... Fear will not tear us apart. Violence will not divide us. We stand united as wizards and as humans." Dippet deep voice echoed in the Great Hall.

Hermione looked up at the window behind the Headmaster. Thousands of white flakes were carefully falling from the silver sky.

 _You're so screwed Hermione._

 _Step 6_ _: failed._

Her eyes fell back on the table. The lads were all focused on the words coming out of the old wizard's mouth. She had never seen them so invested in what he had to say. Tom was scanning the room, the students, the teaching staff. His face was unreadable.

 _The painting was not in there._

 _And you know what it means Hermione._

Hermione tried to focus back on the eulogy and kept her eyes on the large professor's table. She heard quiet sobs coming from the Gryffindor table but forced herself not to look.

 _If it is not in Slughorn's Private Apartments._

 _It means it is… there._

She looked at Tom.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. The thump in her temples came back. The deafening sound of blood in her brain. It had started a week ago, right after the attack. Hermione blamed it on the lack of sleep.

Every night she laid awake in her bed, staring at the deep green canopy. When she closed her eyes, trying to fall into Morphea's arm, she heard Tobias' screams. So each night, she kept them open.

What else could she do but think ?

She thought about how, when she was in Slughorn's private office, none of the walls hung what she had been looking for.

She thought about how she had spent months talking to each painting of the old castle, trying to figure out where it could be.

She thought about how one of them, on the night of the Christmas dinner, had told her that house's related paintings were usually in the head of house chambers.

Dumbledore's voice got her out of her train of thought. The transfiguration teacher was standing straight in his dark grey robes. He put both his hands in front of him, fingers interlaced.

"Today, we acknowledge the losses of Edison Morsten and Benedict Jenkins. As you all know, they were the perfect embodiment of their house's values. Bravery, determination, courage…"

Hermione exhaled quietly, relieved that the pain in her head lessened a bit. She couldn't help but think about the eulogy Dumbledore had given in her fourth year. Unlike what she had felt at that time, tonight while looking at Dumbledore, she was resentful.

She had arrived in this timeline nine months ago. As every day went by, she became more aware of who Dumbledore truly was : manipulative, calculating and cunning.

She had read Skeeter's book and as she knew the character, she didn't believe every written word. However, she started doubting. She doubted her own judgment in her own timeline. Harry trusted him and she trusted Harry. Yet, Harry had told her he had fooled him. And she trusted Harry.

Hermione was startled by the comeback of her headache. Professor Wink, the Charms professor, had started talking about the fifth-year Ravenclaw, Gemenia Bishard, who died in St Mungo's from the extent of her wounds.

* * *

16.01.1943 :

It was hurting, a searing pain around his right eye. It had been a week and the pain was still there. Tom tried not to be bothered by the physical aspect of it but just looking in the mirror reminded him that he was not invincible.

He could have died and that thought scared him. If he was not sure about doing it before, he was sure now.

"Are you okay Tom ?" Milton asked him.

Tom realised that his right cheek was slightly twitching.

"Fine Milton." He answered annoyed.

They were all sitting in the common room, in the leather sofas in front of the fireplace. The place was mostly dark due to the heavy clouds outside, but the candles scattered around the room and the chimney brought enough light for Tom to keep reading his book, _Legendary Creatures_.

"You know you can go see the matron if it's still hurting. I went to see her yesterday and she was really helpful." The small boy continued not noticing that Tom didn't want to talk further.

"You went to the infirmary ?" Dolohov snickered. "Why ?"

"Come on Antonin." Abraxas began laughing. "Our little Milton was _badly_ hurt." The blond mocked.

"My bad. He is a real war hero. Tell me Mitlon" Antonin put his elbows on his knees and got closer to Muliber, sitting on the floor. "Were you hurt before or after someone thought you were a third year in need of help ?"

"Shut it." Milton tensed.

"Come on lads. Leave him alone." Thorus intervened. He was lying on one of a couch, throwing a ball in the air and catching it repeatedly.

"He is just jealous." Belone added while passing behind the couches where the lads were gathered. "Tom actually helped while Milton was getting helped."

"Bold of you to say that McNair knowing that you ran back to the castle just after the explosion." Milton snapped.

"Are you serious ?" Grace cut.

Tom turned his head, he had almost forgotten that she was sitting with them, reading a book.

"Are you really arguing about who did what ?" She kept going. "Should I remind you that none of you knew what to do ? If you want to take the piss out of Milton, maybe I should take the piss out of all of you."

Everyone stared at her and shut their mouths. Grace turned her head and met Tom's gaze. "And he's right. You should go to the infirmary Riddle."

Tom shut his book loudly, put it down on top of another one and got up. "I am fed up with you." He said, looking at everyone. "If you do not want to shut up then I will take my reading somewhere else."

He grabbed both books from the coffee table and left.

 _Morons._

Tom walked towards the common room door when Cole said his name. He turned around and saw the sixth-year prefect sitting on a couch next to the two Parkinson brothers.

"Riddle !" He got up. "Do you want to do it now ?"

 _What he is talking about ?_

Tom stopped and cocked an eyebrow. Woodcroft looked at his book and added "You're on your way to the library ? Perfect, we can talk while walking."

The blond Slytherin approached him and they both left the common room.

"Sorry about that. I just needed an escape from those two."

"What are you talking about Woodcroft ?" Tom asked not really interested in what the other had to say.

"Pollux and Cassandre. Two insufferable little shits. I can't with them anymore."

"Still arguing about Black ?"

"Walburga, their parents, everything you could argue on. Everything you couldn't argue on too when I think about it."

 _I think I should have a conversation with him._

 _It could be interesting to have a-_

A small kid, running in the corridors, bumped into him. Tom stumbled back and dropped his books on the floor.

"Oy !" Cole rose his voice toward the second-year Hufflepuff. "Watch where you going ! Detention you bludger."

The boy didn't say a word and lowered his head. Cole crouched down and picked up the two books on the floor.

"Abusing your power Woodcroft ?" Tom smirked.

Cole chuckled and took a good look at the books he was holding.

" _Legendary Creatures_ and _Architectural Timeline of the Oldest Castles in Great Britain_ ?" Cole slightly laughed while handing them back to Tom. "You're such a nerd Riddle."

They arrived in front of the library's door.

"I guess you owe me something Woodcroft." Tom smirked.

Cole chuckled. "What do you want ? Quidditch World Cup tickets ?"

Tom liked Cole. On top of being the heir to one of the important families in England, he was genuinely likable. However, everything was easy for him. Just hearing him offering priceless tickets to Tom just because the latter had helped -without even knowing- was infuriating.

"Two tickets. For the final." Tom answered.

"What are you going to trade them for ?" Cole rose an eyebrow well knowing Tom's intentions.

And that was why Tom liked Cole. "See you later Cole."

Tom pushed the door open and entered the quiet room. He sat at his usual table and opened the books in front of him.

He looked around him and spotted a book at the end of his table. He rose up and approached. The volume was opened and a large ink stain hid the content.

Tom didn't like when things were not in order and he didn't like when people didn't take good care of things. He moved his wand above the book and made the ink disappear.

He looked at the title of the chapter.

 _Might be interesting._

OoOoOo

27.01.1943 :

Abraxas Malfoy threw the _Daily Prophet_ on the wooden table. "That is bullshit."

The front page of the newspaper showed Wilhemina Tuft in a press conference at the Ministry of Magic with the frontline " **A half-blood for the win ? The end of pureblood dictatorship.** "

"She earned five points in the latest polls." Thorus explained. "And your father, Malfoy, lost seven."

"Did I ask for your opinion Nott ?"

Thorus rose his hands in a sign of peace and took the newspaper in his hands.

"The election is on the 14th of April. We still have the t-" Milton started.

"The time ?" Dolohov cut him. "Politics don't work like that Milton. Haven't your parents taught you anything ? Were they to busy teaching your brother about how this works ?"

Milton opened his mouth to defend himself when Edgard stopped him. "We're not here for that."

After the release of the article this morning, a meeting became necessary. Tom gathered the lads on this stormy evening in the same room on the fifth floor. He hadn't spoken a word since it began.

"You know what is the worst ?" Edmund rose his voice. "Mudbloods think they got power now."

Thorus let out a loud laugh. "Of course they do. Tuft's son is married to one of them."

"So what do we do now ? More than half of the population is for the only not pureblood candidate." Edgard asked.

Tom chuckled. The lads all turned around to face him and waited for him to speak.

"If I may add something…"

 _We are finally getting somewhere._

OoOoOo

27.01.1943 :

The lads and Tom left the room. They walked in silence in the stairs going down the second floor.

A door slamming, coming from a nearby hallway, stopped Tom in his tracks. The lads turned around and they all stayed silent for a while.

"Go back to the common room. You're not allowed to be there." Tom ordered them. They nodded and kept going down as Tom began walking towards where the sound came from.

He took his wand out of his pocket and cast a Lumos.

"Who's there ?" He asked.

A female sob was the only answer Tom got. He turned left and entered the girl's bathroom.

"Show yourself. It is past curfew." He announced. The sobs became louder.

 _Why do I have to do this again ?_

 _I should have gone with the lads._

Then a moan. Tom exhaled.

"Warren. It is past curfew. Come out." He tried again. "Come on. I will not give you detention."

One of the stalls opened quietly and Myrtle Warren got out of the toilets, her eyes red and puffy.

"T-To?" She stuttered without finishing the word, her breath still panting with sobs.

"Yes it is me. Come on. Let's get you back to your common room."

"Y-you don't have to." She answered slightly panicked.

"And hear tomorrow that a fourth-year Ravenclaw wandered at night during my patrol ? Not going to happen."

He turned around and heard her follow him. They walked along in silence, except for the sobs which became less frequent.

 _Merlin, can't this girl quit it ?_

Myrtle stopped in front of a knobless door. Tom looked at it. It had a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. Tom had never seen the entrance of the Ravenclaw's common room until tonight. He was eager to know how to enter so he looked at the girl next to him and waited for her to enter. As he saw she was not doing anything he told her "Well ? Enter."

Warren took the knocker in her right hand and slammed it twice.

" _What gets broken without being held_ ?" The eagle asked.

 _They need to answer riddles._

 _How clever..._

A small silence settled. Tom couldn't find the answer.

"A promise." Myrtle barely whispered.

Tom turned around and was a little taken aback. He didn't expect this answer from her.

" _I knew you could get in_." The eagle answered.

"It was your last strike Warren." Tom said while turning around. He didn't even wait for her to get in that he was already taking the stairs down.

OoOoOo

02.02.1943 :

Tom got out of transfiguration and walked in the corridors with Isodor, heading to their next theoretical class : Defense Against the Dark Arts. In front of him, Grace and Edgard were talking about the new spell they just learned.

"Hey Kiddo !" Someone shouted across the hallway.

Tom noticed Pollux and Cole coming their way.

"Sod off Pollux." He heard Grace laugh.

"Still co-"

"Pollux I'm not waiting for you." Cole informed his friend. "Not again."

Woodcroft smiled at Grace and nodded at Tom before continuing his way. Pollux flipped him off and focused on Grace again.

"Still coming to see me ?" He asked her, putting his arm around her shoulders and began walking along with them opposite to where he was supposed to go.

"I'd rather watch Milton eat". She said loudly.

The small boy, behind Tom, protested. "Hey ! Not cool."

"Don't say things you don't mean kiddo." He faked being shocked. "Why don't you wanna come ? Is it because of your irrational fear of brooms ?" Pollux teased. The latter leaned against her to whisper in her ear. "You rode a dragon for fuck sakes."

 _Come again ?_

Tom scanned the lads to see if he was the only one who heard. They didn't seem bothered. He was the only one.

Grace shoved Pollux in the ribs.

"What ?" The sixth-year chuckled. "Don't get fucking wasted kiddo if you don't want to spill any of your secrets."

 _Interesting._

Tom heard Merrythought, who was waiting at the door, yelling "Parkinson ! Language !"

Pollux bowed dramatically at the teacher and smiled " _Milles escouse gendarme_ " (Trad : Doesn't really mean anything, but was suppose to mean _Excuse-me madam_ )

Grace started laughing. Tom had never seen her so carefree before.

"And you call yourself fluent" She teased him.

Pollux mimed stabbing himself in the heart and said "you wound me kiddo."

"Stop being so dramatic Pollux. It doesn't suit you."

Tom just realised something. Grace was caring with Milton, sarcastic with Thorus, laughing with Isodor, but with Pollux, she was different. It was pure friendship.

* * *

02.02.1943 :

Hermione settled next to Belone in the middle of the room. She opened her book _Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts_ and turned it to page 394, the reductor curse.

Merrythought began.

As they all started rehearsing the hand movement, Hermione heard Belone chuckled next to her. She turned her head to where her fellow slytherin was looking at and saw Milton struggling.

"Watch." Belone whispered.

She rose her wand slightly then switched it. Milton's inkpot spilled on his desk. Belone snickered. Hermione could see a satisfying grin appearing on her face.

"Why do you hate Milton so much ?" Hermione asked, genuinely interested.

Belone looked at her puzzled.

"Apparently my father would have stolen his father's job at the ministry." Belone built the suspense for a couple a second before continuing. "Which totally accurate." She whispered while winking.

"But he hasn't done anything to you personally ?"

"That's true. But look at his face Grace. I love-" She dragged the "o" a smile on her lips "seeing his face when I bother him."

"Do I sense a lingering a crush Belone ?" Hermione teased.

Belone looked at her before laughing out loud, bringing the entire class's attention to the two of them.

"Ladies." Merrythought warned them.

Belone and Hermione mouthed "sorry" at the same time then began whispering again.

"Don't be ridiculous Grace. I am soon to be married."

"Excuse me ?" Hermione rose an eyebrow.

"Come on Grace. Everyone is betrothed."

Belone put one of her elbow on the wooden table and pointed her index finger towards random person in the room, telling Hermione who they were betrothed to. "Dolohov. Yes he is too. No one knows to who though. I like to think that is ashamed. Why ? Just a guess."

"And you ?" Hermione asked.

"I happen to be one of the lucky girls." A real smile spread on her face.

Hermione found herself smiling too at the happy look her friend had. Merrythought cleared her throat and all the chatter stopped.

"So we will be stopping here today. But before you leave for lunch I have an announcement to make. After fifty years of teaching, here at Hogwarts, I believe it is my time to step out and let a new professor join the teaching staff. I decided to tell you all today because I just got the confirmation this morning that Headmaster Dippet had found a replacement."

Students around the room began talking to one another, asking questions to the professor whereas Hermione tried to focus on what she had just heard.

 _You have already heard that Hermione._

 _Where have you heard that ?_

Everyone seemed shocked. Everyone except a bunch of boys, all members of the Slugclub.

 _They knew. How ?_

 _Maybe Slughorn told th-_

She stopped her thinking and looked at Tom.

 _No._

 _Tom told them._

 _Tom told them during a dinner._

 _Tom told them during a dinner then had a private conversation with Slughorn._

 _They talked about Horcruxes._

Tom looked back at her.

 _Fuck._

That was why Tom had bought the book on the day of the attack. He had already had the conversation with Slughorn. He had already known about them. He just needed to know how to make them. How to make seven of them.

OoOoOo

21.02.1943 :

Slughorn was sitting behind his desk and Hermione was standing behind her cauldron. They had started three weeks ago brewing polyjuice potion. On this day, the steps were easy and there were just a few of them. When she had finished stirring her potion, she let it rest and sat down in front of him.

"Well Grace, as you know the orientation session had already begun. " Slughorn told her, offering her a cup of tea she gladly accepted. They already agreed on doing hers on one of their private classes.

"So what do you want to do after Hogwarts ? What is your plan ? Follow your parents' path ?" He asked her.

 _Dentists ?_

"Would you see yourself a professor ?" He kept going.

"Oh !" Hermione said. "Not really."

"Well, where do you see yourself in ten years ? Twenty ? Fifty ?"

 _Fifty ?_

 _You see yourself home Hermione._

"I never had the opportunity to think about the future. Even back home, never got the chance to think about it." She replied honestly.

Slughorn became uneasy at her words. He looked right at her and softly smiled "now you have the time Grace. What about Auror ? You clearly got the skills. But master potion would suit you more. You could maybe one day take my place. Wait, no. No teaching you said." He winked.

 _Take the opportunity Hermione._

"It is a really difficult thing being a professor. I don't know if I have the skills for it. For instance, I don't know how you do this professor. I don't know how you manage when a student comes to see you and ask you about terrible things that will get consequences on their souls.."

Concern spread on his face and his eyebrows furrowed a bit.

"Grace, you did what you had to do."

"Professor, I-" She tried totally lost.

"What you did was horrible but necessary. You have a past and you have every reason to do it. Do I condemn it ? Yes, with all my heart. But do I understand it ? Yes, with all my heart."

Hermione wanted to say something, to scream at him that she was not talking about herself, but talking about a monster. And now, she wondered if she was the monster.

"You are manipulative, calculating and cunning Grace. But that's what will get you there. Whatever you will do in ten years, twenty years or fifty years, you will do things that will matter."

Hermione was a little emotional at Slughorn's speech. This feeling quickly disappeared as he kept talking. "Of course, don't forget that I was there Grace. Tutoring you, pushing you and guiding you. You will always have a place on my shelf."

 _He's still a Slytherin after all._

 _He doesn't care as long as you're on his shelf._

She nods. He got some pamphlet out of his desk and put them in front of her. He opened his mouth and began explaining to her which paths she could choose.

OoOoOo

01.03.1943 :

Things began to fall back into normal. People stopped thinking about the attacks and mourning. Classes went back to normal. Everything seemed more normal.

Hermione began to sleep again, she got used to the nightmares. But even though she slept better, she still had headaches. They were not constant, but seemed to happen more and more often.

And today she had this nudge. She couldn't put her finger on it. She knew she was missing something important.

She was lying on her bed trying to figure out what she had forgotten.

 _Grindelwald, Tom, the lads, Dumbledore, Slughorn ?_

 _What are you forgetting Hermione ?_

Hermione got up and left the dorm. She closed the door quietly behind her and went to the common room. It was silent and only the crackling of the chimney could be heard.

She briefly scanned the room and noticed him. He was sitting behind the chess set, playing against himself.

She hesitated on coming back to her dorm. She took a step back.

"Still not sleeping ?" He asked her without raising his head.

She looked behind her to make sure he was talking to her.

"Yes I am talking to you Hortense." He finally looked at her. Hermione could see in his eyes that he was ready to provoke her, like he always did.

"Not tonight Riddle." She simply said. "I'm not in the mood."

His expression changed. "Fine. Let's play then." He showed her the chess set with his hand. She stayed still for a moment but finally sat in front of him.

"White I suppose ?" He smirked.

"Not tonight. Not in the mood to _play_."

Tom understood what she meant. She wanted to play chess. However, she didn't want to play his game. He put the pieces back to their initial position. And it began.

They played in silence for the first ten minutes.

 _You still don't know what you are forgetting._

"Was it the same ?" He broke the silence.

"What are you talking about ?"

"Back there. Was it the same as the attack in January ?"

He was the first one to broach the subject with her. Everyone stared. Everyone whispered. But he was the first one to ask. Hermione took the time to think about it.

"I had two close friends. Not close friends. They were my brothers." She chuckled. "I even thought I was in love with one of them."

She played her next move.

"We did everything together. We were in the same house, the same classes. We spent holidays together. They were my first friends. They're still my first friends. Nothing is going to change that." She kept going.

"Did they fight along with you ?" Tom asked.

"We did everything together. I used to be a know-it-all. To follow the rules by the book. Afraid of the consequences if I didn't respect them. After six months of friendship with them, I think I broke all of them."

She stopped for a while.

"They knew I loved the chair on the left of the chimney in our common room. So when I stayed late in the library they always made sure this chair was available when I came back.

 _Henri_ always left little chocolate next to me when I was studying during our exam period. He was afraid I would forget to eat. We never talked about it. It was just natural.

 _Romain_ taught me how to play chess. _Henri_ was better than me at first. But we kept playing and I got better. Even won against _Romain_ once and I didn't even cheat.

Then the war began. We lost people. We began to get scarred. But at least we were together.

One day, we were given a mission. We had a goal but no instructions. But we were together. Until we were not. Out of three we became two. _Romain_ left us. It was scary, we were angry." She stopped to think.

"One day I had to cut _Henri_ 's hair. I was as scared as he was." Hermione chuckled. "He had this mass of hair, wild. He told me he liked it at the end. But I really believe he just said that not for me to feel bad. At least we were together.

 _Romain_ eventually came back. Safe and sound. And we were back together, the three of us."

 _The golden trio._

"And now-"

She stopped abruptly. She inhaled. "Now I am alone. I lost them. I lost them during a war. During an attack. I spent my last moment with one of them. He was fine. And the other one ? I still don't know what happened to him."

She examined the pieces in front of her and shifted her queen.

"So no Riddle. It was not the same. Back then, I had this constant fear. Not of dying myself but to be alone. In January, it was only instinct. There were no feelings involved. And that changed everything."

Her queen moved to E5 and shattered his king.

"That is totally barbaric." Tom stated.

"That's wizard chess." She replied instinctively.

She froze.

 _That's it._

 _That's what you forgot._

"It's his birthday." She whispered. "That's what I forgot. That's what nudged me all day."

She finally looked at him.

"I forgot about his birthday." She concluded. "How could I have forgotten his birthday ?" The only thing present in her voice were pain and guilt.

Tom didn't answer right away. She had always looked sad, but tonight she was broken.

"Let's play another game." He finally said, magically resetting the game.

OoOoOo

10.03.1943 :

She was sitting one of the bed, her legs crossed under her. She had come to the infirmary right after her transfiguration class for her headaches as it had become unbearable. The matron gave her a calming draught and she was waiting for it to start working.

The door opened and two younger girls entered.

"Miss Asphodela, Myrtle got hurt." She heard a girl say.

"Sit down on a bed I'll be here in a bit." The matron answered.

Leonara got close to Hermione. "Take off your shirt. I am going to take a look at your old wound."

The nurse closed the curtains around Hermione's bed to give her some privacy. She took off her shirt and let the matron do her work.

"It seems to be finally healing." Miss Asphodela smiled at Hermione. "You can get dressed. Don't forget to keep applying the ointment every night."

Hermione got up and took her shirt. She put her hands in the sleeves holes. "Thanks Miss Asphodela."

The nurse opened the curtains as she put her head through the neck. She turned 90 degrees to the right and saw two girls staring at her. None of them spoke for a couple of seconds before the blond one broke the silence.

"You're Grace Hortense !" She said rapidly. "I am Olive Hornby and this is …"

"Moaning Myrtle." Hermione finished without even thinking.

The two Ravenclaw opened their eyes wide before Olive started snickering.

"Nice nickname ! Never thought about it, I-"

 _Fuck._

 _Well done Hermione._

"So why are you here again ?" Hermione cut, desperately trying to change the subject.

"Myrtle fell down the stairs."

 _And you, Olive, pushed her._

Hermione finally knotted her tie. "Well, get better." She hurried out of the infirmary.

OoOoOo

17.03.1943 :

It had been a week.

A week of people whispering behind her back, shutting up as she passed near them.

And she still had no idea why.

Even the lads became more distant. She truly felt alone, except for Pollux. But they were not in the same classes, didn't have the same schedule.

She sat down in transfiguration and opened her book. She closed her eyes and felt the headache coming back. She was exhausted, emotionally and physically.

The class began and she was unable to focus on anything. She put her head in both of her hands and tried to steady her breath. She closed her eyes. She thought that maybe she could sleep for a bit. At least, when she was asleep there were no rumours around her and no searing pain in her head.

A book fell on the floor not far from her and made her head snap up. Her gaze was still sleepy and fell on her professor. He was staring back at her. The pain in her head intensified. And she understood.

 _How dare he ?_

 _How could he ?_

 _How could he talk about right and wrong and then do that ? And to you ?_

 _What is he even looking for ?_

Her hands began shaking from anger and she resigned herself to stay sitting. She waited.

Her right leg was twitching, her fingers were tapping the wooden table. And she waited.

She waited for the class to end. She waited for the students to leave. She waited for him to be alone.

Hermione was staring at him as the room emptied.

"Tom." Dumbledore said, well aware of Hermione's gaze on him. "I believe Headmaster Dippet is waiting for you in his office."

Hermione turned her head and understood that Tom knew something was up and as usual wanted to witness it. He nodded his head at the professor and left the room. They were finally alone.

Hermione stood up abruptly and made her chair fall.

"Legilimency is illegal." She shouted.

"Miss Hortense, listen…"

"No ! You listen to me. You've been inside my head for two months. You had no right !"

Dumbledore flicked his wand. At this moment Hermione understood that the room was not soundproof and Tom had surely heard the beginning of their argument.

"Miss Hortense do not forget that I am your professor." He stated.

"Yes you're right. You are my professor. However, that doesn't give you the right to violate my mind ! And for what ? What were you looking for ? What were you so desperate to find ?"

"Your behaviour didn't add up Miss Hortense."

"W-Wha-What ?" Hermione was completely lost.

"You saw me with Grindelwald. The reason for all your losses. Yet, you did nothing."

"You too ! You did nothing ! You could have killed him."

"You could have too. You had all the reasons. He killed your family, your friends, everyone you knew. No one would have blamed you. England would have understood. You would have been a war hero. And still, Miss Hortense, you didn't even try to do something. And that doesn't add up." Dumbledore explained.

 _He's trying to manipulate you._

 _He's turning the situation around._

 _You have done anything wrong Hermione, he's the one who got into your head._

 _He's the one to blame._

"And you think that gives you the right to get inside my head _Professor_?" Hermione asked.

"I did what I had to do for the school, for the students, for the-"

"Greater good ?" She cut him.

He closed his mouth. They stayed in silence as they looked at each other scornfully.

"At least, have you found what you were looking for in my head ?"

"Miss Hortense, we both know that your mind is not easy to get in." He replied.

Dumbledore looked at her above his glasses.

 _What did he saw ?_

OoOoOo

17.03.1943 :

Hermione closed violently the common room door behind her and paced in front of it, her hands in her hair.

 _How could he do that ?_

 _How could he do that to a student ?_

 _How could you've let him do that ?_

"Wow Grace ! What's going on ? Sit down you're making me dizzy." She heard Thorus approaching her.

She rose her head and stopped walking to face him.

"Oh you're talking to me now ?" Hermione yelled. "After days of silence, you're talking to me ?"

"Grace you're making a scene." Thorus whispered between his teeth.

"I don't give a fuck if I'm making a scene Thorus !"

Isodor snickered on the couch not far from her.

"You've got something to say Avery ?" She shouted at him.

Hermione just snapped. After two months of a quasi constant headache, which turned out to be her professor violating her privacy, a week of the lads ignoring her and people talking behind her back, Hermione finally snapped.

She looked at the room and saw everyone looking at her.

"No one talks ? She kept yelling. "Do you want me to leave the room so you can all talk behind my back ?"

"Grace." Thorus called her.

"Tell me Thorus. What is everyone saying about me ?"

Nott didn't answer, he simply looked at the lads, desperately trying to find some kind of help.

She shoved passed him and got close to Avery.

"Isodor. Tell me."

Once again, no one talked.

She spun around and faced Milton.

"Come on Milton." She said.

"Grace…"

"Is it not _Gracie_ anymore ?"

"It-it's nothing."

"You're a fucking coward Milton. No one's going to tell me ?"

Dolohov snickered.

"Dolohov…" Tom warned him.

"No Riddle. Let him talk." Hermione cut him. "Maybe for once he would have something interesting to say."

"We saw it." Dolohov spoke up, proud.

 _What's he talking about ?_

"I warned everyone not to trust you. I was right, now I have a proof. I saw it." He kept going.

"You didn't see anything." Isodor interrupted.

 _What could they have seen ?_

 _The felix felicis ?_

 _The marauder's map ?_

 _The Black's dagger ?_

 _The polyjuice ?_

"Everyone's talking about it." Dolohov continued, taunting her. "I don't even need to see it. I can imagine it."

"The fuck are you talking about Dolohov ?" Hermione rose her voice.

"The scar." Tom answered.

A silence settled.

"Which one ? The one that I wear as a choker ?" Hermione snickered. "It's no secret."

"No Hortense." Tom smirked. "The one on your arm."

Her blood drained from her face, her hands began to shake lightly.

 _How ?_

 _Calm down Hermione. You've got this. You've considered this scenario._

"What's on my arm then ?" She calmly asked.

"Mudblood." Dolohov spat.

"I'm sorry Dolohov, did we just not established that you haven't seen it ?"

"Someone saw it." Malfoy intervened.

"Was it you Malfoy ?" Hermione asked. "Did you see the word Mudblood written on my arm ?"

Malfoy didn't answer.

"Silence speaks more than words." Hermione stated. "Who saw it then ? Did someone even see it ?"

The silence came back until a first-year spoke. "Myrtle Warren saw it."

"You mean Moaning Myrtle ?" Abraxas snickered. Everyone laughed at his intervention.

"Did you know I was the one who gave her this nickname Malfoy ?" She asked him. "No answer ? I guess you didn't know. Don't you think it's funny that the girl I mocked is the one spreading rumours about me ?"

"They were two Grace." Edmund added. "Olive Hornby saw it too."

"Do tell me Rosier. What did they see ?"

"They saw _Mud_ on your arm." Milton completed.

"So you just assumed that it was saying _Mudblood_. Well Milton, we all assume here that received the same education as your brother. Yet, you prove us every day that we are wrong."

Hermione had to spread doubt. And as she said the last sentence, she could see people reconsidering what they thought about the situation.

"And you Dolohov." She turned towards him. "Always the first one to point fingers. Of course it is convenient for you if I have _Mudblood_ written on my arm."

They all knew what she was talking about.

"If you're so sure Dolohov, if you're sure I have _Mudblood_ written on my arm, swear it on your magic. Swear on your magic that I have _Mudblood_ written on my arm." She dared him.

He didn't take the bait and closed his mouth.

"Once again, silence speaks more than words." Hermione concluded.

She turned around and left the room. Once in the hallway, she exhaled loudly. She couldn't go back inside until she had calmed down. She walked for a bit in the deserted corridors. Her mind was going to explode.

 _Between Dumbledore and now that, you feel like you can't do it anymore Hermione._

 _But you're nearly there._

 _You've worked so hard._

 _You can do this Hermione._

 _It's nearly the end._

Her head was spinning.

"Kiddo ?" She heard. "Are you okay ? Do you need to get to the infirmary ?"

"Did you know ?" She asked Pollux on the verge of snapping.

"About what ?"

"About the scar !" She finally snapped. "You should have fucking told me." She shoved him. "You're supposed to be my friend Pollux. What the fuck ?"

"Grace, calm down a bit !"

"You thought it was funny maybe ?" Hermione shouted. "Everyone talking behind my back, about the poor little girl who just arrived after a war with scars and…"

"I don't care about the rumours. They're fake."

She looked at him. "Yes, they are fake."

Pollux was about to put on of his hands on her shoulders but she took a step back.

"I think I need to be alone. I'll see you later Pollux."

She quickly left and got to the seventh floor. She passed three times in front of the wall before a door appeared. She got in and settled in her usual wagon. Hermione looked outside the window.

 _Maybe you should think about it._

* * *

15.04.1943 :

"It was fixed." Edmund spat.

"Of course it was." Abraxas barked.

The lads were tensed. All gathered in the Great Hall for breakfast, they had just finished _The Daily Prophet_. As Tom already knew months prior, Tuft had won.

"It is mudblood's fault." Dolohov spat.

"Shut it Antonin." Thorus shoved the latter in the ribs. "You're not at home."

"We should be allowed to say what we want." Abraxas rose his voice. "We are the founding families. Without us those _mudbloods_ would be nothing."

 _It is going to be even easier than I anticipated._

Tom looked around them and he noticed her.

It had been almost a month since the confrontation about the supposed scar. The rumours had lessened, people were not talking much about her anymore. Few of them were still not convinced though.

She used to sit in the middle of them but now she was on the side. Sat next to one of them still, but not taking part in the conversation.

 _It is maybe for the best._

She was in front of Pollux and Cole and had her own discussion with them. She seemed more closed, just like her mind he supposed.

He had been a month and Tom had not forgotten the few words he had heard between Grace and Dumbledore.

Tom stood up and spoke to the lads. "Let's go to class."

The seven boys stood up too and began walking towards the exit.

"Aren't we not waiting for Gracie ?" Milton candidly asked.

Dolohov turned his head and took a good look at her. "I am not waiting for a _mudblood_."

Tom saw, from the corner of his eyes, Grace's shoulders tensed.

"As a matter of fact…" Abraxas started but stopped as soon as Tom shoved him in the ribs.

"No. We are not waiting for her." The prefect concluded.

As he left the room, Tom caught a glimpse of Grace. She was staring at Pollux, a determined look on her face.

OoOoOo

15.04.1943 :

They were, as usual, in the same room on the fifth floor at night, during one of Tom's patrols. No one had spoken yet. The lads were all sat on their chair, watching Tom pace the room, waiting for him to finally speak.

"What we thought unrealisable at the beginning just happened." He finally spoke up. "We were defeated and the world as we knew it is no longer. The change has already begun and it is a change you are no longer a part of. You, the sons of the mighty 28. You, the heritage of our country's value. You, my friends are no longer the future of our great nation."

He stopped walking and faced them. They were all looking at him as if he held the only valuable truth.

"We have lost tonight. Not because our ideals were wrong, because my friends, they are not. We lost tonight because your fathers are purebloods. And that is the sole problem of this election.

Purebloods were becoming once again too powerful and must therefore be destroyed. What they did not realise however, is that purebloods cannot be destroyed. They detain more power than any of them would dream of.

Purebloods have values, traditions, knowledge and connections that are essential for England. They might think that they can live without pureblood, but they are only fooling themselves. You know it. I know it. They do not know it yet.

This election was the first step in their futile emancipation from what they think they do not need. This election was the first stage of casting the pureblood aside. Because, my friends, this is what they are trying to do : cast aside the powerful, cast aside the true heirs, cast aside what they are not and can never be."

Tom stopped and stared. The lads, at the interruption of his speech, began whispering among themselves. He got close to his chair and laid his forearms on the wooden structure. After a few seconds of silence, Tom resumed.

"After all of that ? After the attack in January ? After hypocritical declarations that the fight was solely against Grindelwald and his regime, and once the purebloods had laid down their political arms, the annihilation of the purebloods began according to their plan. And Dumbledore, the perfect embodiment of Gryffindor as they all think, was supposed to fix all of our problems ? Not at all. The only thing he did was sowing the wrong seed in people's mind."

As he said those last words, Tom saw the confusion on the lads' faces.

"No we are not alike. Dumbledore is wrong : we are not alike. Us and the mudbloods. Two separate education living in the same world. Those who were raised knowing about magic and its value and those who were not. And that my friends is where we trace the line.

How dare mudbloods, who come into our world without even knowing magic exists before they are eleven, try to cast aside those who were raised in it ?

How dare mudbloods come into our world and try to change what had been established for centuries ?

Maybe Salazar Slytherin was right after all."

Tom sat down.

"So what now Tom ? What do we do ?" Isodor asked him.

 _Now, I shall rise._

OoOoOo

15.04.1943 :

They entered the common room, determination printed of their faces. The lads headed towards their dorms whereas Tom lingered behind.

Grace was sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, a book in her lap. He made sure the door was properly closed and that no first year was out of beds. He walked behind the couch to reach his dorm but stopped in his tracks as he heard her voice.

"Did they believe you ?" She asked him.

Tom turned around and saw Grace still reading her book as if she had not spoken to him.

"You gave them hope about their fathers winning this election. However we are both aware that was not your belief. We said it ourselves that Tuft would win and well before her rise in the polls." She kept going.

"I do not know what you are talking about Hortense."

He resumed walking and fell upon Thorus on the corridor leading to their dorms.

"You've played them." Nott simply stated.

"How come ?" Tom asked.

"You knew Tuft would win from the beginning."

"Any smart person would have known. And that is why your father, and you too Thorus knew. They were no other candidate fit to take the slot."

"Are you playing me right now Tom ?"

"I would not be a Slytherin if I was not."

* * *

22.04.1943 :

Thorus slightly pushed her arm and Hermione rose her head.

"The class is over." He kindly said.

She nodded and packed her things before following him outside the rune's room. They descended the main staircase in a comfortable silence. As they approached the first floor they heard a loud thump followed by a snarky laugh.

"I-I need to go to the library. Do you want to come with me ?" Thorus asked her in a rush.

Hermione took a good look at him. Another loud noise echoed and before Thorus even opened his mouth she walked towards the sound.

Milton and Isodor were holding a boy by the arms while Dolohov played with his wand in front of him.

"What should I do with you ?" Antonin taunted him.

"Make him bleed. Take the mud out of him." Milton said.

"Finally Milton." Dolohov smiled.

Hermione saw a grin appearing on Milton's face.

"What the fuck is going on ?" Hermione snapped as she approached them.

The three Slytherin turned their heads.

"Hortense." Dolohov smirked. "Get in line. You're next."

"Antonin…" Isodor warned him.

"What ? Am I wrong ? We don't know anything about her and we all know what's written on her arm…"

"That's the thing Dolohov. You don't know what's written."

She turned around to walk to her common room but stopped a few meters after.

"At least do it in a place where no one can see you, _idiots_." Hermione told them.

 _You really have to do it know._

OoOoOo

22.04.1943 :

"Ok." Hermione exhaled while looking at her reflection in the bathroom's mirror. "Everyone's asleep. You've put a locking charm on the door. You've put a silence charm. You're really going to do it."

The only sounds she could hear were her heartbeat and her shaky breath. She put both of her hands in her hair and closed her eyes.

"You've got everything. Everything's in order. You've got this. It's going to be fine. It's going to be fine."

 _It's not going to be fine._

She put her hands on the sink and let her fingers tap on the edge. She looked at the material laid in front of her. She counted again if she had everything. She had.

"You've got this. Just do it. Take it and do it."

She put her hair in a bun and exhaled. She approached her right hand from the tool but backed down.

"Come Hermione. You've got this. You've…"

* * *

22.04.1943 :

"...got this !" Orion Black laughed. "Come on Isodor. Don't be a pussy."

"It's on his fucking head Black !" The blond answered.

"Another reason for you not to screw up." Tom teased.

All the fifth years Slytherin boy were gathered in their dorms, none of them could sleep so here they were, playing around.

Abraxas had a green apple on his head and was standing by the bathroom door.

"Come on Avery !" He shouted. "I'm getting bored over there."

"Shut up Malfoy or the knife is going to end up in your head instead of the apple." Isodor rose his voice.

"It's not a knife Isodor. It's a dagger. The Black's dagger." Cygnus intervened. "Been in the family for centuries."

"Well, let me rephrase then. Shut up Malfoy or the _Black's dagger_ is going to end up…"

* * *

22.04.1943 :

"...in and breathe out Hermione."

Hermione put the palms of her hands on her eyes. She stayed that way for a couple of seconds before facing her reflection once again. She released her hair from the bun.

"No. Not going to do it. No. No. No" She exhaled.

 _You have to._

Her right hand began shaking as it got closer to it. She finally took it. It felt heavy. She rose it then dropped it as if it had just burnt her. It fell in the sink in a loud noise.

"There must be another solution. I'm not going to it. It's…"

* * *

22.04.1943 :

"...insane !" Edgard chuckled from his bed.

"Thanks Edgard !" Isodor exhaled. "I was ready to do it but now you've distracted me, I have to start from the beginning."

All the other boys groaned. Isodor shifted from one leg to another. He closed his left eye and rose the dagger then did the same with his right eye. Abraxas, in front of him, had leaned on the door and crossed his arms in annoyance.

"I bet he's going to miss." Dolohov whispered to Tom.

"I bet he is not even going to throw it." The prefect answered a small smile on his lips.

Isodor turned his head and flipped them off. "Thanks lads for the support."

"Focus !" They both yelled at the same time.

"Come on Avery ! We don't have all…"

* * *

22.04.1943 :

"...night. You don't have all night Hermione."

She began pacing in the small bathroom. "If you're going to do this you've got to do it now."

She stopped walking and faced the mirror once again. She took it once again. She froze.

"For fuck sakes ! Do something !" She yelled at herself.

She felt the tears in her eyes. "Please do something."

"Just do…"

* * *

22.04.1943 :

"...it." Cygnus pressed the young blond.

"Come on. I believe in you." Thorus told him.

"You're the only one." Isodor complained dramatically.

Tom was leaning on the bedpost of his own bed, he pushed himself from it and took two steps. He ripped the dagger from Isodor's hand and threw it across the room. The dagger slit the apple in half and stayed in the wooden door.

"That is how you…"

* * *

22.04.1943 :

"Do it !" She screamed at herself, tears of frustration pooling in her eyes.

Everything stopped for a second. There was no heartbeat anymore, no shaky breath, just a deafening silence.

Without tearing her gaze away from the mirror she felt her right hand moving from its own accord towards her left forearm.

As the _Black's dagger_ pierced her skin, she let out a haunting scream.

* * *

22.04.1943 :

They screamed, laughed and cheered.

The eight boys tackled the laughing prefect on the ground.

* * *

22.04.1943 :

She fell on the floor. Her head began spinning from the loss of blood and the memories coming back in her mind.

* * *

22.04.1943 :

"If Tom had missed and had grazed me, what would have happened ?" Abraxas asked Cygnus.

"You don't want to know." He chuckled.

* * *

22.04.1943 :

Lying on the bathroom floor in a pool of blood, Hermione had blacked out before she could finish.

* * *

29.05.1943 :

"Pour me another one Abe." Hermione asked him, slightly tipsy.

"Only because it is your birthday." He smiled while serving her. "After, you need to go back."

She grinned at him and took a sip of her drink. Abe disappear in the backroom for a minute and came back with a wrapped up present. As the sight of him grinning, she couldn't help but smile too.

"You didn't have to Abe…" She shyly said.

"Open it."

He dropped the package on the bar and she opened it. A silver holster laid in a white box. She took it in her hands. At the bottom right, Hermione saw an inscription _GH_.

Hermione hopped on the ground and went behind the bar to hug Abe tightly.

"Thank you so much." She murmured.

She went back to her stool and finished the drink in one go.

"Let's go back to your common room now." Abe told her.

"One more drink."

"Grace, you should really go back."

Hermione glared at him. She understood that there was something up, Abe had never asked her to go back to her dorm.

"What did you do Abe ?" She asked.

"I didn't do anything." He quickly answered. "However Pollux…"

"For God's sake. I told you I didn't want to do anything for my birthday."

 _Or rather Grace's birthday._

"Well you didn't tell him." Abe pointed out.

Hermione groaned, rose from her seat, took the holster and left the bar after saying goodbye to Abe.

As she walked her way back to the castle, feeling slightly intoxicated, she began scratching her left forearm. She had taken off the bandage the week before, but she still felt an unpleasant tingling sensation.

Hermione arrived in front of the Slytherin's common room. She exhaled and entered. Music, coming from the radio, enveloped the room. People were chatting enthusiastically over a glass of firewhisky or butterbeer. Hermione dived into the crowd and reached for the table filled with drinks and food. She poured herself a drink and saw the lads with Pollux on the other side of the room. She approached them.

"What's she doing ?" She heard Pollux complaining. "She's always fucking late. Well, yes she doesn't know but still…"

"Pol…" Mitlon started.

"Maybe she is upstairs and no one saw her. Knowing her, she may be hiding." The sixth-year kept going.

"Pollux, she is currently behind you." Tom stated emotionless.

The latter turned around and smiled at Hermione. "Hey ! Happy birthday kiddo !"

Hermione couldn't help the displease look she had on her face. She had told Pollux many times that she didn't want any party for her birthday. After the second of May, Hermione had felt more down than ever and she was not particularly prone to celebrating the birthday of the dead girl she stole her identity from. Yet, here she was.

Sensing the tension, Pollux gave her a poorly wrapped gift. "That's for you."

She took the present and opened it. "Thank you Pollux." She faked a smile. Hermione tried to hide the gift from the lads but Antonin took the opportunity to embarrass her. "What is it ?"

"A book." She simply replied.

Isodor, on her right, grabbed the book and laughed. He turned the volume for everyone to see. " _When's your next period ? And we're not talking about classes_." Avery laughed out loud. "Nice one Parkinson."

OoOoOo

29.05.1943 :

Hermione ended up dancing with Belone in the middle of the common room. After her last glass of firewhisky she realised that she was stuck at this party so she decided on trying to have fun. The song ended, she embraced Belone and went for another drink.

"Keep pouring Grace." She heard coming from behind then saw a glass next to hers. She did as she was told and handed the glass to a smiling Cole.

While talking to him, she actually had fun.

"Kiddo !" Pollux called her from the other side of the room, not caring about bothering the people listening to the music.

She took Cole by the arm and dragged him along towards the lads and Pollux.

"You really look like you're hating this party by the smile on your face." The oldest Parkinson teased her. "By the way, you never told me if you had liked the gift."

"Shut up." She laughed, swaying a bit from alcohol.

"What else did you get ?" Edmund asked.

"Abe got me a new holster, surprisingly Slughorn offered me a new potion set…"

"Surprisingly ?" Lestrange snickered.

"And my grandmother sent me a box of my favorite childhood treats : _Calissons d'Aix_." Hermione finished.

She noticed the surprised looks the lads seemed to have on their faces. Hermione had never talked about Grace's family. Tom had a slight smirk, understanding that she had drunk maybe a little too much.

"Hortense, I am talking on behalf of all the lads here, and I would like to apologize for not giving you a present tonight." Tom spoke up.

"It's fine Riddle." Hermione tried to cut short. "I wasn't expecting you to."

"Afterall, with all the tension between you and the lads lately, because of all your secrets, your lies... You kind of drifted apart. Didn't you ?"

She looked around her and realised that no one was going to help her out of this situation. Not even Pollux.

"My lies ? You're still on that ?" She blurted out. "All of you, you're still on that."

"How could we not ?" Tom asked her.

"Do you want me to show you my scar ?"

Riddle's brows furrowed in surprise.

"Which one Riddle ?" She asked him smiling a little. "The one on my calf ?" She lowered her left sock revealing a large claw mark. "I got a little _scratch_ there, a little gift from a werewolf."

Hermione stopped for a second.

"Or do you want to see this one ?"

She undid the top three buttons of her shirt. A pale large gash was visible, but only a part of it.

"Quite the scar this one. Interesting story by the way. But that's not the one you're interested in ? Right ?" Hermione closed them back.

"Then there's.. Oh no, you've already told me that you weren't talking about this one." She said while flowing her finger on her throat. "However, what you don't know is that I got this one on the same night as this one." She held her clothed left arm up.

Even though the lads, Cole and Pollux were mortified by the scars she had shown them, as soon as she rose her arm up, she saw the morbid curiosity crawling in their eyes. But Tom was almost smiling.

"By the same knife too." Hermione kept going while by starting rolling up her sleeve slowly.

First the _d_ , then the two _o_ 's, the _l_ and the _b._ She saw Antonin smiling at the sight of the word _blood_ scarred on her skin. However, his smile faltered as she showed them the entire scar.

"Are you still on that now ?" She asked everyone.

She looked at each one of them. For the last couple of months, they were too focused on the word they thought was on her arm to realise what it meant. Someone had taken a dagger, and wrote in her flesh. And tonight, while staring at it, they finally understood the atrocity of it.

She shot them a smile, rose her glass, proudly exposing _Madblood_ to the entire room. "Here's to you Grace." She declared.

No one talked, no one moved. Except for Tom and his glass in the air.

* * *

 **Author's note :**

 **Hi guys,**

 **So we did a 10k chapter. Sorry about that. Got a little carried away.**

 **Sorry for not replying to the reviews, we looooooove them and we're gonna reply soon !**

 **Lots of love,**

 **-DDM's Managers**


	13. WICKED GAME

" **Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

 **CHAPTER THIRTEEN : WICKED GAME**

* * *

 _Song : Wicked Game by Chris Isaak_

 **PART I : THE PLAN**

As she got closer to the end of the passageway, she put her hand in front of her eyes trying to shield herself. She came across the thin wood of the twin painting and pushed it. She stumbled out. Hermione gaze was on the ground, she recognized Hogwarts' stone floor, she rose her head and saw chaos.

She was back. She made it.

Screams were resonating through the devastated hallways. She could hear the cries of pain, smell flesh and blood. Flashes of colours were cast. Green, red, purple were mixing up for her to witness the most horrid shade she ever saw.

She was back. She made it.

She heard Harry's voice calling for her.

Her vision became blurry by the tears pooling in her eyes. A little chuckle escaped her mouth.

She cast a reducto towards the brick wall separating them. She finally cast the spell she should have cast a year ago. Once the smoke dissipated, she finally saw Harry's face. She ran in his arms and clutched at him.

She opened her hand and put the glasses back on his face. Hermione wanted to talk more, hug him more, but Harry interrupted her to go find Ron.

Harry grabbed her hand and they began running into the chaos. Hermione spotted Ron fighting alongside his brother George not far from them. She pointed at them for Harry to notice.

They got closer. Hermione took Ron in her arms. She heard the question George just asked her, yet she didn't know how to answer. She looked at him and opened her mouth. As the words escaped her lips, the remaining twin fell on the floor.

George went to Fred's body whereas the trio kept running towards the Great Hall. Harry pushed the thick french door open. As soon as she stepped inside, a green light illuminated the room and hit Harry right in the chest. He fell on the floor. Dead.

Her eyes looked for where the spell came from. Here he was, standing proud and tall. Tom Riddle. Not Voldemort, but Tom Riddle.

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She must have changed something. She took her wand out of her holster - GH - and pointed it towards him. Behind Riddle, she recognized Antonin Dolohov, the only one not wearing a mask.

His eyes opened in surprise and he called her last name, the only one he knew : Hortense.

Another Death Eater turned around at the name and took off his mask.

"Kiddo ?!"

OoOoOo

13.06.1943 :

 **\- 12 hours earlier -**

She woke up startled.

"Wake up !" Belone shouted at her while throwing pillows at her face.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes, not completely aware yet of what today was. As she stared at the green canopy, she smiled.

 _Tonight, Hermione, you're going home._

She hopped on the ground, flipped Belone off with a smirk and went straight to the bathroom. For the last couple of weeks, every time she took a step inside this bathroom she felt a shiver running down her spine. But today she didn't care because tonight she was going home.

The Great Hall was fully packed with chatting students. She spotted her friend arguing with a fellow Slytherin. Hermione walked towards him. As she arrived at his level, she stole the toast he was holding and sat in the middle of them.

"Morning." She smiled.

"Are you alright Grace ?" Isodor asked her.

"Well, I'm not." Pollux pouted. "She stole my fucking toast. Since when do you even eat ? One thing kiddo, Pollux doesn't share food."

She laughed carefreely. The lads around her were all looking at her strangely and Tom was puzzled.

"Oh you know the bird I was telling you about last night ?" Pollux caught her attention. "Well, I sha…"

Cole shoved him in the ribs. "You're talking to a lady here Pollux."

Hermione laughed again. "Thanks Cole. But the real question here is : Was it better than… you know… the last time ?"

Cole burst into laughter, knowing exactly what she was referencing to.

"Shut up." Pollux replied. "You promised not to talk about it again."

"What happened the last time ?" Isodor interrupted.

"Well, let me tell you all about it." Cole smiled.

"Shut it." Pollux cut him.

As the three Slytherin started bickering, Hermione softly smiled.

 _You're going to miss them._

 _Especially this little prick._

OoOoOo

29.05.1943 :

"Here's to you Grace." She declared.

No one talked, no one moved. Except for Tom and his glass in the air. She drank her glass in one go, shoved it in Tom's hand.

"I hope you got what you wanted." She harshly whispered to him before passing past him towards her dorm.

She could hear her name coming from some of the lads' mouth. But one voice exceeded the others. "Grace !" Pollux was calling behind her. "Wait ! Let me explain. Grace !"

She arrived at the bottom of the girls' stairs and turned around to face him.

"Don't." She coldly said.

He was looking at her, not knowing what to do or say. She looked up and down. "You're just like them." She concluded before going up the stairs, leaving him alone.

OoOoOo

13.06.1943 :

 **\- 10 hours earlier -**

"Hurry up kiddo. You'll be late and you've got a class with Dumbledore." Pollux told her as they walked down the corridors.

"Aren't you going to be late Pollux ?" She smiled at him.

"I've got a class right next to you."

"Actually we don't." Cole interrupted. "We're in the dungeons and we're definitely going to be late."

Hermione could see from afar the students going inside the classroom and Dumbledore greeting them at the entrance.

"Yeah, we should probably go to the dungeons." Pollux concluded. "See you after ?"

 _You're going home tonight Hermione._

 _You don't know if you'll see him._

 _Smile at him and say yes._

"Sure Pollux." She smiled.

She walked past her transfiguration teacher.

"Miss Hortense." He greeted her. She stopped in her tracks to face him.

"Professor." She replied with a fake smile.

They were glaring at each other like nothing had happened but both aware of the lack of respect between them.

She walked past him and settle next to Belone. The professor stood behind his desk.

"I know it is the end of the year and you are all excited for holidays that is why today I have prepared you something a little different. Please keep an open mind."

As he said those last words, his gaze fell upon her.

 _As if..._

The classes began, she took her quill and parchment and doodled. She got lost in her thoughts.

OoOoOo

29.05.1943 :

Her roommates had come back to the dorm an hour prior and the common room downstairs was surely empty.

She laid awake in her bed, the curtains drawn around her. She thought about what had just happened.

She had considered every possibility, and someone seeing this scar was one of them.

She had chosen a way to transform the scar into something else.

She had selected the day she would scarify her arm, once she knew she had to.

However, she had not planned Pollux. How she would become friends with him and his reaction.

Hermione heard glass shattering downstairs. She got up her bed, put some shoes on and went downstairs.

The common room was gloomy and a dark figure was sat in front of the chimney, his back against the couch. She put one foot first then the other and approached it slowly. She walked upon shattered glass.

"F-fuck off." She recognized Pollux drunk voice.

She continued and stood in front of the chimney facing him. He had his hair stuck to his forehead and his shirt torn. He rose his head. His left eye was swollen and purple and his right hand bloodied. He was sitting in the middle of empty bottles and broken glass.

"G-Grace ?"

"You're pathetic Pollux." She simply stated. Hermione turned around to go back to her dorm.

"Wait !" He called after her. He pushed on his hand to get up and hissed as the glass broke through his skin. She exhaled and helped him settle on the couch.

"You're a mess." She looked at him.

"I-I don't ev-even underst-stand why you're mad. I did nothing !" He mumbled laughing a little.

"That's the thing Pollux. You did nothing. You didn't stand up for me. You didn't even fucking say a word for me Pollux." She rose her voice.

"I did n-nothing ?!" Pollux pointed at his black eye. "Does it l-look like nothing to y-you ?"

"I can't do this." Hermione concluded. She turned around one more time and took a few steps towards the stairs.

"Don't leave. Don't leave me." His voice seemed to belong to a child, a scared and lonely child. She turned her head and saw his glassy eyes. "Not you too." He whispered.

"If everybody is leaving you Pollux, maybe you should question yourself." She spat then left.

OoOoOoO

13.06.1943 :

A flashing pain got her out of her thoughts. She felt as if her head was about to explode. She had never experienced that kind of headache before. She looked at Dumbledore. Her chair creaked as she stood up. The room went silent.

"Excuse me professor." She said. "May I go to the infirmary please ?"

"Miss Hortense, this class is important." Dumbledore answered.

"I have a headache professor."

He kept looking at her.

"I need to go." She took her bag and left the classroom.

She walked a couple of minutes and her headache faded away.

 _He hadn't tried since last time._

 _Why now ?_

Hermione went outside and stood in front of the clock. It was almost twelve.

 _You should go see Abe._

 _Say your goodbyes._

* * *

13.06.1943 :

 **\- 7 hours earlier -**

Tom entered the Great Hall for lunch and sat in the middle of the lads. Antonin was about to sit at his right, like at every meal but Tom stopped him.

"Don't Dolohov." He told him.

"What ?" The boy asked confused.

Tom didn't bother answering. "Parkinson." He called instead. "Care to join us ?"

The latter nodded and took Dolohov's place.

"Has anyone seen Grace since Transfiguration ?" Thorus asked. No one answered.

"Any plans for the holidays Parkinson ?" Tom casually asked.

"There is the World Cup this summer and I'm doing an internship with my father."

 _Good to know._

The desserts disappeared and they all rose up. Tom nodded at Parkinson then left the room followed by the lads. Antonin grabbed his right arm. "Why did you do that ?"

"A Parkinson in our ranks wouldn't be so bad, wouldn't it Antonin ?" Tom answered.

"Are you sure you can trust him ?"

"If I offer him the right things, yes." Tom smirked.

OoOoOo

29.05.1943 :

"I hope you got what you wanted." She harshly whispered to him before passing past him towards her dorm.

Tom took a sip of his drink. The lads were all tensed and Pollux went after Grace.

"We fucked up guys." Thorus said.

"How ? Now we know the truth, we can all move on." Abraxas stated.

"It still doesn't add up." Antonin whispered in Tom's ears.

 _No it doesn't._

"Who would do that ?" Edmund seemed disgusted. "It's messed up."

"It was repulsing." Antonin added. "I understand why she hid it." He sneered.

"Stop it Antonin. It's not funny."

"Come one Avery, it's even funnier. The all scene ? Cheering to herself, showing all of her scars. A little dramatic don't you think ?"

"Shut up Dolohov." Cole warned him in a menacing voice.

Tom turned around to witness the altercation between Grace and Pollux. She stormed upstairs and Pollux turned around and joined them. He took Cole's drink and finished it.

"I fucked up." He stated.

"We all fucked up." Isodor completed.

"She is mad at me."

Cassandre, passing behind the group, snickered. Pollux turned around.

"Isn't she just mad ?" The youngest Parkinson joked.

"Shut up." His brother barked.

"Like you just did ? When she clearly needed someone to stand up for her ? What a good friend you are." He taunted

His big brother grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the nearest wall. "I swear Cassandre, I'm going to hit you."

"At least you would do something."

His right fist moved from his own accord and connected with his brother's jaw. Cole stepped in between to prevent them from fighting but Cassandre shoved him aside and tackled his older brother to the ground, punching him in the left eye. A circle formed around them, Tom watched amused as he kept drinking his beverage. He witnessed Pollux getting the upper hand and losing all control. Tom wondered if it was due to the alcohol or the resentment he had for his brother.

Cole took Pollux by his shoulders and shoved him against a wall. "Stop !" He yelled. "Look at you Pollux ! Look at him !" He pointed towards Cassandre, resting on the floor, all bloodied. His nose was broken, one eye totally closed and bruised and a split lip.

Cassandre wiped the blood from his mouth. "Don't bother Cole. Not going to change anything. He just got what he wanted. Isn't it right Pol ? Always the attention seeker." He sneered and rose up. "Look at you Pol. I said bad words about her, you did nothing. I said bad words about you.." He chuckled. "Well, look at me. You don't care about anyone but yourself Pollux. Always the selfish bastard. So think about it Pollux, the only person who genuinely cares about you, except for Cole maybe, is probably crying in her bed at the moment. She finally realised who you really are. Just like I did. And she will end up leaving you. Just like I did. Just like everyone will."

* * *

13.06.1943 :

 **\- 5 hours earlier -**

Abe put a cup of tea on the counter in front of her.

"Are you going to stay here all afternoon ?" He asked her while cleaning glasses. "I know you've just took your OWLs, but don't you still have classes ? By the way, when it will be official that you passed them, I'm taking you out to celebrate."

"First, I'm paying to be here."

"No you're not" He cut her grinning.

"Well I could if you'd let me." Hermione chuckled. "Secondly, you can only take me out if there is a bottle of firewhiskey." She stayed silent for a bit. "Do you want me to leave Abe ?" She genuinely asked.

"Nah. I'd be bored if you weren't here. You're my saving Grace."

 _He had already told you that before._

 _But when ?_

"And stop drinking for Merlin's sake or you're going to end up like me." Abe smirked.

"Would that really be a bad thing ?"

Abe rolled his eyes, but Hermione could see that he was touched by what she had just said.

 _You're going to miss him so much Hermione._

She kept looking at him. She wanted to thank him. Thank him for having been here for her, for accepting her since day one when she was nothing but a stranger to everyone, for being her anchor in this timeline.

"So, what are you up to this summer ?" He asked.

"Well, I was planning to spend time with my grandmother." She lied. "And the French Ministry gave me tickets for the World Cup. So I guess I'm going to see some Quidditch this summer."

"If you have some time between game, you could always stop by and grab a drink." He almost casually said.

"Of course I'd come Abe." Hermione tried to smile at him in the most honest way possible.

"But you will have to pay though. If I keep giving you free drinks, I'd go bankrupt. Bring Cole and Pollux with you. By the way, how is Parkinson ? I have seen him since the last time."

"He's fine. Still a little shit, but he's fine." She chuckled.

Abe stared a her.

"What ?" She asked.

"I'm just glad you're friends again..."

OoOoOo

08.06.1943 :

Hermione had sneaked out of the common room. She pulled the marauder's map out of her purse and whispered 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good'.

Since the attack in January, all students were forbidden to go to Hogsmeade. Going out at night was the only solution for Hermione to see Abe.

She arrived at the pub and sat down at her usual stool.

"Hiya Grace." Abe greeted her. "What can I get you ?"

"Do you really need to ask ?"

He smiled and poured her usual. He put the glass in front of her and seemed to hesitate to talk. He inhaled and finally spoke up. "So, how's Po.."

"Please Abe." She cut him.

"Alright." He dropped the subject. "Are you done with your OWLs ?"

"Took my last one this afternoon. Cheers to that."

He grabbed a shot glass, poured a limpid liquid and pushed it towards Hermione. She took it, winked and drank it.

"I'm sure you're going to pass them. You're way too smart." The youngest Dumbledore smiled.

"Afterall, I am the brightest witch of my age." Hermione said sarcastically.

The pub was not packed but some usual customers were sat at the back. While checking that everyone had their glasses filled, he kept talking to Hermione.

The door opened loudly and Hermione turned her head towards it to see who just entered. As she saw Pollux walking towards the bar and sitting two chairs away from her, she tensed.

"Evening Parkinson." Abe told him while giving him his usual firewhiskey.

"How are you doing Abe ?" The Slytherin asked.

"Good, good. Woodcroft's not with you tonight ?"

"Nah. He has a date. I hope he'll get stood up." He chuckled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She was mad at herself for wanting to chuckle with him. She pursed her lips and began to play with her signet ring. Abe was going back and forth between the two, chatting and pouring alcohol.

Every time he spoke with Hermione, Pollux snorted.

Every time he spoke with Pollux, Hermione rolled her eyes.

Abruptly he stopped. The two students looked at him.

"This is ridiculous." Abe stated. "You are both being ridiculous. Talk to each other for Merlin's sake."

"I don't want to talk to him." She replied like a petulant child. "And stop giving him drinks Abe, he is going to end up wasted."

"Oh you're talking to me now ?" Pollux intervened.

She turned her head. "I'm talking to Abe."

Pollux cocked an eyebrow.

"Fuck you." She spat.

"So articulate Hortense." He sneered.

"Well Parkison, talk to me in two more drinks and we'll see who is articulate."

"Fuck you !"

"No, fuck you."

"Stop !" Abelforth almost yelled. "Out. Now."

She faced Pollux and gave him a winning smile.

"No no Grace. You too. The both of you. Out. Now."

"But I was there first." She complained.

"You're both acting like children, you can come back in once you've grown up."

On this, he pointed his finger towards the door. "Out. _Now_." He repeated one last time.

Hermione reluctantly stood up and went outside. Pollux joined her a couple of seconds later and instantly lit up a cigarette.

They both stood outside, feet away from each other, in complete silence.

"I can't believe you're talking to them." Pollux finally said.

Hermione turned her head, he was not looking at her. His gaze was focused on a bench not far from them.

"They did the exact same thing as I did. And yet you're talking to them." He kept going.

"That's where you're wrong Pollux." She snorted.

He turned around and took a step forward.

"Oh yes it is different." He snickered. "They stopped talking to you weeks before your birthday because of the rumours, they almost avoided you. I stayed."

"You stayed because you thought the rumours were fake Pollux, not because you didn't care about them."

"They were fake !"

"It doesn't matter Pollux ! And what if they were true ?"

"But they were not." He cut her.

She took a step forward too, took the cigarette he was holding in his right hand and threw it on the ground.

"What if they were true Pollux ?" She asked again.

He looked at her. His jaw was tensed and his eyes were cold. It was the first time she had seen him this serious.

"Answer the fucking question Pollux."

"I would have avoided you. At least in front of people. Maybe I would have talked to you a bit when we would have been alone. Once I would have graduated and taken the place as the official heir to Parkinson's family, I would have stopped talking to you. That's my fucking answer."

Hermione swallowed as she felt her heart breaking slowly in her chest. Even if she wanted to say something back, she couldn't. She had a lump in her throat.

"And your precious lads ?" Pollux spat. "They would have done the same. Because we are all raised the same. We are taught since the day we are born that we are above everyone else. The only people we see while growing up are other purebloods and their parents, teaching them the exact same thing. My father taught me that, and I instilled that to Cassandre. So what did you think Hortense ? Yes I fucked up. But once I knew for sure that the rumours were fake, I stood up for you. And your lads ? They watched me.

So, why are you talking to them but not to me ?"

"Because you were my friend Pollux !" She yelled, her voice breaking.

Pollux's eyes widened.

"It shouldn't have mattered. Mudblood, Half-Blood, Pureblood. It's all the fucking same ! I thought you cared about me for me not for my blood."

She covered her eyes with her hands. "I showed my scars that night. They are fucking haunting me, especially this one. And you just stood there, eager to see what really was written on my skin."

She put her hands down and looked right at him. She pulled her sleeves up and exposed it.

"Written on my skin. Do you even understand what it fucking means ? Do you realise that someone fucking carved my arm ? You shouldn't have even cared about what's written. You should have only cared about the fact that someone did that to me."

She swallowed. "So don't talk to me about your education. It is just an excuse for your behaviour. You are old enough to think for yourself Pollux. You can make your own mind, make your own decision."

He let out a humourless laugh. "I've come to realise that no I can't make my own decision ! You're reproaching me a thing I can't change anymore. Say that to my fucking parents Grace and the fucking society. Blame them for the things they taught me. This is my only truth. It is the only thing I know. Maybe your parents have given you the perfect education of tolerance and understanding, but I fucking didn't."

She looked at him one last time then turned around and left.

"Where you're going ? We're not done." He yelled behind her.

She turned around and kept walking backward. "I am done Pollux. With this nonsense, with this conversation, with this friendship, with you." She turned once again and flipped him off.

She heard him laugh. A real laugh this time. She spun around.

"Are you laughing at me ?" She asked offended.

This sentence just made him laugh more.

"That was so dramatic." He managed to say between two laughs.

"You're kidding me right ?"

"I'm done with this conversation, with this friendship, with you." He imitated her.

"I don't sound like that !"

"I don't sound like that !"

A laugh escaped her lips. She put her hand on her mouth.

"See ? You can't be mad at me." He said.

"I can and I am. And you know what ? Let's be a little bit more dramatic. I'm leaving. And fuck you."

She walked back towards the castle.

"You can't walk away from our friendship." He shouted as she got farther away.

"Watch me !" She yelled back.

"You can't because, because. Hm… I still owe you a bottle !"

She turned around and kept walking backward, just as she did before.

"Well you… what ?!" She stopped. He was the one walking towards her.

"The first time we met, in the bathroom, you paid for all the drinks."

"It wasn't my money. I made a bet with the lads during the quidditch tryouts. I bet on you, you made it, I won the money. So we're even."

"Then ... you can't walk from our friendship because … because you never showed up to one of my Quidditch games !" He arrived in front of her.

"It doesn't make sense !" She laughed, tears in her eyes.

"We don't make sense ! Since the beginning we don't make sense, we fucking met in the men's bathroom while I was taking a leak."

He was wrong. In this past, in this era, nothing made sense but this friendship.

Pollux put both of his hands on her shoulders. She didn't flinch.

"I am sorry Grace. I am arsehole, I use my education as an excuse for my shitty behaviour. I should have stood up for you from the beginning. I should have asked you how you were. By the way, how are you ?" He asked, chuckling. "Hey hey, don't cry." He wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I shouldn't have been jealous of you talking to the lads. I should have manned up and apologized. You're my best mate."

A silence settled between them. They were still in the same position, Pollux towering over her, his hands on her shoulders.

"Are you done then ?" He asked insecure "Are you done with me ?"

Hermione kept looking at him. She was taken aback by the vulnerability Pollux had just shown. She pursed her lips to fight back a small smile.

"You ruined my dramatic exit." She finally said.

He laughed.

And just like that, she had forgiven him. It was simple, almost too simple. Maybe if she had not planned to go back, maybe it wouldn't have been this simple.

But it was like that. She couldn't be mad at him any longer.

He put his arm around her and they walked back to the Hogshead.

"Well you know there can't be two drama queens in this friendship kiddo. You've had your moment, let me have mine."

She grinned at him.

"We got kicked out of Abe's bar." Pollux stated. "He fucking kicked us out !"

"Right ?" She exaggerated. "He went too far."

They arrived at the front of the door, laughing. Pollux pushed it and let Hermione enter first.

"Grace ?" He said in a small voice. She turned around a small smile on her face. "Are we okay ?"

"We're more than okay Pollux."

"You're not going to leave me, right ?"

Hermione looked at him, well aware that in less than a week she would indeed leave him.

"Never Pollux."

OoOoOo

13.06.1943 :

 **\- 3 hours earlier -**

They ended up chatting for hours. The conversation flowed easily.

Hermione looked at the clock behind Abelforth : 5PM. She had to go.

As she looked at him, she realised that maybe she didn't want to go.

"I don't want to go." She muttered.

 _You thought you wanted but it doesn't feel right._

"No one asked you to go." Abe remarked. "You can always stay for dinner if you want. We have shepherd pie tonight."

Hermione scoffed. "I have an errand to run." She got off her stool.

"If you feel like skipping another day, you know where to find me." He winked at her. "Anyway, see you on Saturday night. And remember you can't come tonight."

"Like every second Wednesday of the month Abe." She replied with a smirk.

She took a couple of galleons out of her purse and put them on the counter. Abelforth frowned.

"What do you think you're doing ?" He scolded.

"Just feeling like it's time to pay my tab."

The bartender went to give her back the money but Hermione took three steps backwards towards the door.

She put her hand on the doorknob and opened the latter. Before she went out, she turned around one last time.

"Abe ?" She called.

"Hm ?"

"Thank you."

He looked at her puzzled, not fully understanding what she meant by that.

"For the tea." She completed while gulping.

 _For everything._

* * *

13.06.1943 :

 **\- 2 hours earlier -**

Tom was sat in front of the chimney.

"Tom." He heard Edmund approaching. "We have a problem."

Tom didn't raise his eyes from The Prince by Machiavelli. "Not tonight."

"Tom." He pressed.

Tom finally looked at the Slytherin.

"We have a problem." Edmund repeated with clenched teeth.

"Tell me then." The prefect grunted.

"Not here."

Tom understood that it was something serious. He closed his books, put it on the table and got up.

"Call the lads." He ordered.

Edmund nodded then left to gather the others. Tom left the common room after checking the time. He got to the fifth floor and entered their usual classroom. He waited for the lads to join him.

They all sat around the table.

"What is it ?" Tom finally asked.

Edmund took a parchment out of his robes and handed towards him. Tom took it. He recognized Edmund's father signature at the bottom of it. He read it.

"So what ?" Tom scolded after finishing it.

"The last paragraph." Edmund explained.

Tom looked back, casually leaning on his chair :

 _"..._

 _Our dear friend had decided to clean up her new house. I believe she will find some things she would want to get rid off. I heard from her neighbour that she is looking for a new map. She had already thrown away her scale, according to her, it was off-balance._

 _We are still waiting for the car boot sale's date. You and your friends might be interested in."_

"You are inviting us to a fucking car boot sale Rosier ?" Tom rose his voice.

"Isn't obvious ?" Edmund genuinely asked. "My father is talking about the government !"

"Come again ?" Tom stood straight in his chair and Rosier went by his side.

"Here." The Quidditch player pointed at the letter. "Our dear friend is Tuft. »

As the words left his mouth all the lads tensed.

"Her neighbour is Rockwood." He pressed.

"Rockwood ? The undersecretary ? Isn't he on her side ?" Tom asked.

"Only when it suits him." Dolohov intervened.

"Tom, listen to me." Edmund insisted. "The map is the minister of International Magical Cooperation."

"She wants to do what now ?" Isodor rose from his seat as he heard his father' job title.

"Sit down Avery." Tom reprimanded. "Continue Rosier."

"The scale is Antonin's dad. The current minister of Law Enforcement." Rosier finally finished.

A loud silence settled. No one moved. No one talked.

"So her new house is…" Edgard started but stopped as he realised what it meant.

"Her new house is the government." Tom completed. "She is doing a cabinet reshuffle."

The silence came back but for only a couple of seconds. Then chaos followed.

Tom took his head in his hands and stared at the letter on the hardwood table.

 _I'm fucked._

* * *

13.06.1943 :

 **\- 1 hour earlier -**

Hermione arrived in the common room. She sat on the couch. She laid comfortably. She fixed the painting in front of her, the one just above the chimney. She closed her eyes and inhaled.

OoOoOo

13.06.1943 :

"Kiddo ?!"

Hermione woke up with a start and took a large inspiration as if she had been drowning for the past hours.

She looked around her and found the common room. The Slytherin common room. Her breath was ragged and her hands were slightly shaking.

"I was back there." She mumbled still drowsy. "He-he died in front of me."

She closed her eyes for a minute and remembered her vivid dream. That what was she was going back to, she was planning on going back to hurt and death. She wanted to go back, but not to this.

Hermione had been stuck for a year, far from the raging war of her own timeline. She had been so focused on her plan that she didn't quite understand what it meant to go back home. To go back there.

Pollux touched her shoulder and she flinched. She remembered her dream. Pollux had been there and he had been on the wrong side of the war. He had stood next to him.

"Calm down Grace. It was only a nightmare." He reassured her while delicately taking her hand in his. Hermione looked at his watch.

 _You're already late._

"You look pale Grace." He stared at her. "Haven't seen you at dinner, you should eat something."

Hermione took this opportunity to excuse herself and leave. "I'm fine. I'm just gonna grab something to eat."

"Do you want me to come with you ?"

"No." She answered too quickly. He looked at her puzzled. "Go to bed Pollux, I'm fine."

They both stood up. Pollux smiled at her and turned around to reach his dorm but Hermione hugged him from behind.

"Hey kiddo, I'm not going anywhere." He laughed.

 _But you are Hermione._

"I'll see you tomorrow right ?" He asked a smile still on his lips.

"Right."

He winked at her and left. She stood in the common room alone.

 _It's time Hermione._

 _You're finally going home._

Hermione looked one last time at the Slytherin common room. She took a deep breath, opened the door and left. The ink became alive. She inspected it and headed towards the Headmaster's office.

Hermione knew that tonight Dippet was not at Hogwarts. Once a month, Dippet went to Hogsmeade to take a drink, at Abe's.

In front of the Gargoyle leading to the office, she remembered the front line of last week's newspaper showing the British/Irish league Quidditch results.

In her own timeline, Hermione had searched about the previous headmasters of Hogwarts. Each of them had a special way of choosing passwords. Dumbledore had chosen sweets' names. Dippet, however, had the habit to change it every month depending on the winner of the British/Irish league Quidditch.

That was why Hermione was standing in front of the Gargoyle, a slight smirk on her face.

"Puddlemere United." She declared.

The gargoyle did not move an inch.

"Puddlemere United." She repeated anxiously. "The Puddlemere United ?"

 _Fuck._

She knew Puddlemere had won, she had read the paper. She knew it was Puddlemere. Her heart rate quickened and her hand became clammy.

 _You know it's Puddlemere. Why isn't Puddlemere working ?_

She looked around her, checked the map to make sure no one was coming her way.

"Puddlemere United !" Hermione tried once again.

 _Why isn't Puddlemere working ?_

 _Think Hermione. Think._

She felt the blood pulsing in her temples from the anxiety. She didn't have all the time in the world. She had limited, months prior, the time of each task. She had already begun late and she was currently wasting time.

Suddenly something lit in her brain and a nervous chuckle escaped her lips.

 _You're a fucking idiot Hermione._

"Puddlemere Union." She stated.

The gargoyle moved and she climbed the stairs.

They changed the name to Puddlemere United in 1968.

Hermione looked at her watch, she had a little less than five minutes to find out what she was looking for.

As she walked in the office, she reminded herself to be quiet and not to cast any light. The paintings were all asleep.

 _Accio Harry's glasses._

Nothing happened. She waited. Nothing happened.

 _Accio Harry's glasses._

She listened carefully for any sign that the glasses were locked somewhere and were trying to get to her. She heard nothing.

 _Accio Harry's glasses._

Still nothing.

 _They're not here. Hermione, they're not here._

 _And you can't go home without them._

 **PART II : THE DEFAULT IN THE PLAN**

"Fuck !" She whispered. She heard the paintings waking up. She quickly left the office and found herself in the empty corridor.

She paced in front of the door, her hands in her hair. She tried taking deep breaths to calm her. She stopped as she heard footsteps getting closer.

 _Take it._

 _You don't have time anymore. Take it._

She sought the phial in her purse and looked at the 5ml container. This phial was not as full as Harry's one. She knew it wouldn't last long. It was too soon to take it, but she had no choice. She downed it in one go.

As she looked at the empty Felix Felicis vial, she knew that luck was on her side and felt the need to go to the bathroom.

She felt at ease walking around not caring if she made any noises. She felt bold. She felt drunk on luck.

She walked slowly as she descended the three floors separating Dippet's office from where the Felix Felicis had decided to take her.

Hermione arrived in front of the second-floor girl's bathroom. The door opened in a small creaking. She entered.

There was a reason for her to choose the 13th of June to go back home.

"Hortense ?!"

She stayed still as she stared at Tom, bent over the lifeless body of Myrtle Warren. He stood up and shoved her against the wall. Tom put his wand underneath his chin.

She had prepared herself to see the corpse, yet she felt her stomach in knots.

"The fuck you are doing here ?" He barked. Tom's eyes were flying from Hermione to the door. Hermione, on the other hand, was staring at Myrtle's body.

Tom put more pressure on his wand. "Look at me." He snapped. "What are you doing here ?"

"I'm-I'm looking for something." She replied breathlessly.

There was a reason for her to choose the 13th of June to go back home. It was the only day she knew the chamber would be opened.

Tom put a hand in his hair and disheveled it. She had never seen him this way, startled, panicked and unprepared. Out of control. He had planned everything, she thought, but not her.

A mad laughed escaped from his mouth. "You are looking for something." He burst out laughing. "Let's find it together, shall we ?"

If Hermione had not been drunk on luck, she would have been terrified at this moment. Tom looked insane, spoke insane. He pulled her from the door and put his wand on her back.

"It's downstairs." He guffawed.

 _It wasn't supposed to happen like that Hermione._

Tom hissed and stairs appeared from the hole in the middle of the bathroom.

"Come on then !" Tom almost yelled.

Hermione stiffened and put one foot on the first stairs. She felt Tom's wand in her back urging her to go faster. She took one last glance at Myrtle's body before it disappeared after the notice-me-not charm Tom cast on it.

"You made one." She stated.

"You do not know what you are talking about." He spat, rushing her downstairs.

"You just created a Horcrux."

"The first thing you think about is me making a Horcrux and not me killing a fellow student ?" He scoffed.

"You were too curious about death not to kill someone one day."

They arrived downstairs. Hermione looked around her, it seemed cleaner than what she remembered her seventh-year. Tom pushed her and she almost fell on the ground. The slight tingle sensation she felt from the Felix Felicis had almost disappeared. She was almost out of luck when she desperately needed it.

They both arrived in front of a steel door. She remembered it. They had arrived. Tom hissed once again, and the door opened. Hermione felt as if her heart would burst out of her chest any minute. She slightly moved her left arm and felt the holster and her wand. She almost took it out but the remaining of the Felix Felicis told her not to. He pushed her inside the chamber. Hermione kept her eyes stuck on the ground.

"Look around Hortense !" He chuckled. "This is my legacy, the proof of my superiority !"

She refused to look.

"Look around !" He shouted. Hermione tensed even more. Tom took her by her shoulders and spun her around. She kept her eyes on the ground. Tom took her chin and rose her head. Hermione closed her eyes instinctively.

She couldn't see his face, but she could hear the silence that followed.

"You know." He stated under shock. "How ?" He put his wand back under her chin and repeated the question, this time while yelling.

She didn't answer.

He took a deep breath in order to calm himself. He didn't talk for a couple of seconds. His face went from uncontrollable anger to plain smugness.

"How are you going to find the painting if you do not open your eyes ?" She heard the smirk in his voice.

 _That's why you needed to keep the Felix Felicis Hermione._

She gulped as she realised how fucked she was. Tom took her reaction as a victory for him.

"Of course I knew it Hortense. Since Christmas. You are not as subtle as you think you are. I know all about it. All about your plan."

 _You doubt that._

"You can talk Hortense. You can even open your eyes. I won't call it." He smirked.

She slowly obeyed and looked at him. He looked proud. He couldn't show it to anyone, so he gloated at this moment.

"What are you talking about Riddle ?"

"Oh ! She talks !" Tom walked around her, his wand still pointed towards her. "What am I talking about ? Isn't it obvious ? I know what you want to do. It is quite clever actually." He stopped in front of her. "I almost believed you."

Hermione was a little confused.

"You lost it Riddle." She simply said. "All that dark magic you just did. It messed you up."

"Oh no Hortense. You played it well. The poor orphan, the only survivor of a terrible attack with no witness. No one to testify. How lucky you are."

Tom looked at her, she didn't say anything.

"Nothing to say ? Fine, stop me if I am wrong then. I had my doubts at first, like everyone I believe. Then at Christmas, more precisely at Slughorn's party, I was almost certain. But once again, you played well. In January, fighting, killing and saving all of those students. I could almost say it was your coup de Grace. You had me there, you had everyone. For a couple of days. But it didn't match Hortense. Dumbledore was right. It didn't match."

Hermione's eyes widened at the mention of Dumbledore.

"Oh yes, that is the reaction I expected." He gloated.

 _He heard ? He couldn't have._

"I hear a lot of interesting conversations, at night, when I do my rounds. This one was particularly captivating. You see, Dumbledore was sure that you had killed the man in the village. Slughorn, on the other hand, defended you. But, where it became interesting was when Dumbledore testified that you were the only one down there at his moment. Because he saw you. And you saw him with Grindelwald."

She clenched her teeth. Tom laughed and kept going.

"And I wondered why you did nothing back there. You told me you hated Dumbledore because he was doing nothing. Yet, you did the same. You did nothing."

"It doesn't mean anything." She replied.

"It means everything. It means that you were on his side from the beginning. It means that you came to Hogwarts with a purpose. And tonight, you are here to fulfill this goal, aren't you ? Find the painting, let your little friend come into Hogwarts thanks to a twin painting I believe Grindelwald owns. I always knew you had an agenda and I always told myself that I would figure something to do about you later. Now that I have all the answers, thanks to your silence, I think it is time to finish our little game, Hortense."

Everything went fast from that moment. She took three steps backward and withdrew her wand from her holster.

"Expelliarmus." Tom cast. Her wand flew to the other side of the room. He cast another one, Hermione fell back on the wet ground. She turned slightly her head behind her and noticed the basilisk's entrance. She turned back to look at him, panic in her eyes. Tom was towering over her, pointing his wand at her.

"Because we were playing a game. A game where I could have my answers. A game where I set the rules." He sent a diffindo and Hermione felt a little blood falling from the cut on her cheek.

" **Rule n°1 : I always choose the situation**." Hermione tried to get up but he cast a new expelliarmus and she felt once again on the ground.

" **Rule n°2 : There are only two players**." Tom smirked. "So do not worry, I will not call it."

Hermione tried to crawl towards her wand.

" **Rule n°3 : You do not get to run from the situation**." He continued. He flicked his wand and Hermione felt something holding her ankle. " **Rule n° 4 : You do not get to play me**." She felt the grip on her ankle becoming tighter and pulling her backward towards him. "Once again Grace, you have played good. But not good enough. **Rule n°5 : I always win**."

She rose her head to look him in the eyes and she saw the pure madness within. She knew what it was about to do and she cut it short.

"C5." She whispered panicked.

"What ?" He asked entirely frantic.

"C5." She repeated, louder this time.

"We are not playing chess."

Tom looked crazy, out of his mind. He had just killed a student, summoned a basilisk and split soul in half. However, Hermione knew it was the time.

"We always are, aren't we ?" Hermione difficulty got up and showed him both of her hands in a sign of peace.

 _You are stronger than he is Hermione._

At this moment something changed. The fear, marking her face a couple of seconds before, got replaced by confidence. Her body, fragile underneath the wand of Tom, straightened. Her head, lowered from the moment she stepped inside the chamber, snapped up and Hermione looked at him in the eyes.

"Before Christmas, we played and I chose to shift my Bishop to C5. I am sure you thought at that moment that I have made the wrong choice. I did, on purpose. Because if I had moved my Rook to E8. Three movements later, I would have taken your King. Checkmate." She continued.

She stopped talking and they stayed like that, in silence, facing one another. A smirk appeared on her face.

"I chose to lose that night." She took a step forward and slowly lowered her right hand. "But tonight Tom, I choose to win." She flicked her hand and her wand went flying in her hand.

 _Expelliarmus._

She caught his wand with her left hand. She saw fear in his eyes.

 _Impedimenta._

Tom fell backward, tried to get up but she cast another one.

"You told me to stop you if you were wrong. Let me stop you right there Tom. You are wrong and you were wrong all along." Hermione proclaimed.

 _Diffindo._

Tom got a matching scar on his cheek.

"You should thank me Tom." Hermione bragged. "Nice legacy you've got there." She mocked wiping the blood off her cheek.

The chamber was dark, only illuminated by a skylight above the water a couple of meters away from them. She flicked her eyes towards the walls : they were bare. Actually, the chamber was completely empty except for the statues leading to the basilisk's entrance.

Hermione swallowed and tried to keep a straight face.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. It's not there._

 _You need to stall until you find a solution._

"Tell me, what was your reaction when you found out you were a Gaunt ?" She continued.

His eyes opened wide. "How did you… ?" He started.

"You're not the only one who knows things." She interrupted him. "Did you like my little gifts ? They turned out to be useful." Hermione showed the room with her hands. "The first one, I didn't even have to leave it somewhere for you to find. You stole it from me. Remember ? _Architectural Timeline of the Oldest Castle in Great Britain_. It caught my eye and I bought it just for you the day of the attack."

Tom got up quickly but Hermione made him fall back, once again.

"The second one was harder. First, because it was not the entire book that I wanted to show you but only a chapter. So I had to get creative. I used ink."

She saw something in Tom's eyes. He understood what she was talking about : the book he had found in the library at his favourite spot with an ink stain on it.

"Ah, you know what I am talking about." She lightly chuckled.

"Why ?" He asked. "Unless you needed me to open the chamber..." He realised

There was a reason for her to choose the 13th of June to go back home. Hermione needed him. But he wasn't supposed to see her.

Hermione smirked. "Did you know that in order to get into the Ravenclaw's common room, you need to answer a riddle ? Like…" She pretended to search for one. "What gets broken without being held ?"

"W-what ?" She saw pure confusion on his face.

"What gets broken without being held Tom ?" She repeated, smirking.

"A promise." He whispered as his eyes widened even more. "H-how d-di…"

"T-Tom" She changed her voice, mimicking the one of a now-dead girl.

"It was you !" He accused and stood up quickly.

She let him.

"Of course it was me ! Isn't it amazing what polyjuice potion can do ? I needed to show you the entrance. You needed help to find it and I provided. "

"You did all of that to lead me here. Why ? Was it part of your plan ?" Tom became angry as he realised he had been played.

"Yes." She replied. "But it is not the one you think about. I am no spy Tom. I have no plans about getting anyone inside."

 _You were trying to get out._

"Which one is it then ?"

 _Stall Hermione. Stall._

"You talked about subtlety earlier." She changed the subject. "You said that I was not as subtle as I thought I was. But the thing is that I can teach you a thing or two about it."

She liked using his first name, reminding him of his commonness.

"I knew about the article Tom." She started. "The one you tried to hide from me at the beginning of the year. Asking Thorus to stop me from going to breakfast to watch the Quidditch tryouts. It was clever but not subtle."

Tom got angrier by the seconds. He took another step forward but she cast a small curse to make him stumble back.

"Didn't you think about the possibility of someone warning me before ? Because Slughorn did. He showed me the article the night before just so I wouldn't be shocked the next morning. You wanted me to find out in front of everyone so you could test your little theory. Why ? Oh, it was a part of your game." She smiled at him.

Tom squinted clenching his jaw. "Just tell me where you getting at." He barked.

"Oh no. I listened to you when you were saying nonsense about my supposed plan. Now it's your turn to listen." She shut him up.

"I helped you at Christmas." She snorted. "Once again, you needed help. And once again, I provided." She paused then started again. "I am nothing but deliberate when I break things."

He furrowed his eyebrows. Hermione watched amazed as Tom really looked for the answer.

"You don't remember ?" She asked him. "I wasn't drunk. I broke a glass on purpose to get you out of a conversation. A conversation you didn't want to be involved in."

Tom understood. He said nothing.

"I thought I was not that subtle when I did that, but apparently it turned out that I was. You then threw me under the bus but it is another issue." She finished

"I knew all about the little mission you gave Abraxas, about finding every piece of information about me. That is why it came as a surprise when you took that much interest in my scar while knowing that I am a half-blood."

"So yes, I was _that_ subtle." Hermione smiled at him. "And yes Tom, we were playing a game. But _I_ created it."

A silence settled.

It was supposed to be easy. She knew that on this day, on the 13th of June 1943, Tom Marvolo Riddle would open for the first time the Chamber of Secret, release the Basilisk, kill Myrtle Warren and create a Horcrux out of this murder.

She just had to take the Felix Felicis just before getting inside, after retrieving Harry's glasses from Dippet's office. This liquid luck would have guided her towards the paintings without getting trouble from Tom or the Basilisk.

But she had not found the glasses and she wanted to get them back to Harry. So instead of letting go of the ideal of bringing them back to Harry, she fucked up.

Her plan was structured for a reason : for everything to happen in the right order. She had limited the time of each task so she would enter the chamber at the right moment. She arrived too early.

She had messed up.

 _Your plan,_ _The Plan_ _has failed._

So here she was. Standing in front of Tom fucking Riddle. No painting in sight, no glasses around, no plan left, still stuck in time and no way to get back.

 _What now Hermione ?_

"And the painting ?" She added. "It was a lure. There is no painting."

 _There is no painting._

"Why did you do all of that ?" Tom finally asked.

And at this moment, Hermione faced a choice.

A choice she had never really let herself put more thoughts into.

A choice she was desperate to avoid.

A choice she didn't want to make but had to in order to stall time until she could find another plan.

So she said the only thing she could say.

"Isn't it obvious Tom ? I want to join you." She replied.

* * *

 **Authors' Notes** :

 **Hi guys, here's chapter 13 (which was supposed to be chapter 15 at the beginning and Ara still has difficulities calling it chapter 13).**

 **This chapter is _full_ of references from previous chapters, so here's a little list if you didn't remember : **

**\- The bet Hermione is referencing to while arguing with Pollux is in chapter 4 (during Quidditch Tryouts)**

 **\- Pollux talks about their meeting (you can re-read it if you want in chapter 6)**

 **\- The Felix Felicis Hermione drinks was stolen in chapter 5 **

**\- The reference to C5 is related to chapter 8** **( & in this chapter Tom reacts to the move in his thoughts by saying " _why did she do that_ ?") **

**\- Hermione bought the book _Architectural Timeline of the Oldest Castles of Great Britain_ in chapter 10**

 **\- The ink stain is in chapter 12 **

**\- The scene with Hermione as Myrtle Warren is in chapter 12 **

**\- The article Tom tried to hide from Hermione is mentionned in chapter 4 **

**\- Hermione broke a glass during Slughorn's Christmas Party in chapter 9 **

**\- In chapter 7, we learn that Tom had asked Abraxas to monitor Hermione**

 **I hope we didn't forget something in this list !**

 **If you're quite lost after this chapter do not worry :) The next one should be useful to get everything *wink wink***

 **PS : Brace yourself Tomione is coming**

 **Lots of love,**

 **\- DDM's Managers**


	14. JE TE LAISSERAI DES MOTS

**Dying is a Delicate Moment**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

 **CHAPTER FOURTEEN : JE TE LAISSERAI DES MOTS**

* * *

 _Song : Je te laisserai des mots by Patrick Watson_

 **01.07.1942** :

Hermione was sat cross-legged on top of her bed at the Leaky Cauldron.

If anyone were to enter her room at this moment, they would have seen the mountains of papers covering the floor, pictures of Grace, her parents, every person she knew, the articles about Grindelwald, Beauxbatons, the attack. They would have stepped on pictures of future deaths eater and their family trees, all interlaced. Finally, they would have found paperwork concerning one and only one child. The son of Tom Riddle Senior and Merope Gaunt.

However, what they would not be able to find in this organised mess was a picture of the said boy.

She put both of her elbows on her knees and rested her head in her hands. Her gaze was focused on the blackboard at the back of her room. This blackboard was now covered in only seven cards

Two weeks prior, it was covered in hundreds of cards. Each card represented a possibility, a possible step in The Plan.

The first draft of the plan was in 37 steps and ended with Tom Riddle being killed. This draft had quickly been covered by sticky notes, each one representing a complication.

Hermione had created a good dozen of plans before realising what was wrong with the drafts. She couldn't change the future, she couldn't kill anyone, she couldn't be known for something infamous. She was to stay as discreet as possible.

So, on the first of July 1942, Hermione Granger had finally created her plan. It had 7 seven steps and only a few complications. This plan was entirely built around one element : the painting.

She needed to find it.

* * *

06.07.1943 :

Tom was sat underneath a tree by the football pitch in his grey uniform. He had a book in his lap, one he had just started reading again, only for his pleasure.

Mrs. Cole approached the boy and let two envelopes fall on his copy of The Prince. Without saying another word, she turned around and left. Tom took the letters and inspected the senders.

" _Riddle,_

 _I am a man of my word._

 _Here are your dues._

 _Newly appointed Headboy Woodcroft_

 _PS : They are expensive. Use them wisely_."

Tom snorted at the signature and took out of the envelope two tickets for the Quidditch Final.

As he took the second letter, a small smirk appeared on his face. He cracked open the seal and as he was about to take out the letter from the envelope, he heard some boys of the orphanage calling his name.

"Oy Riddle !" A large one called.

Tom only turned his head and saw two boys, approximately his age, coming his way. He didn't bother standing up.

"Are those letters Riddle ?" The large boy asked in a mocking tone.

"For lack of intelligence, you sure compensate with an acute sense of perspicacity." Tom flatly answered.

A little silence of a couple of seconds settled. Tom looked at the boy in the eye, waiting for him to understand the insult. Tom finally stood up, his patience wearing thin. "I do not have time for this." He took his book, put both of the envelopes in the middle and closed it. He took a few steps forward to leave but the same boy grabbed the book.

Tom had no patience left in his body. He inhaled. "Give it back to me Clark."

Clark snorted. "Come on Tommy-boy. Do you think you're scary now ? Now that you have a big scar." He laughed in his Scottish accent.

 _Come on Clark. Just give me a valid reason to hurt you._

Everything about this boy irritated Tom, from the way he stood to his accent.

"Nasty scar you've got there. Not so pretty anymore." The scot kept going while opening the book and looking through the envelopes. He took the one, not from Cole. "Girl handwriting." He stated and looked at the other side of the letter. "France ? You're not going to need this with a face as messed up as yours." He tore it in two.

Tom saw red. He leaped forward and his fist collided with the fat boy nose and a cry of pain escaped the latter's lips.

"You fucker !" Clark almost yelled, his right hand dropping the book and envelope to put it on his broken nose.

Tom crouched down to pick up his belongings when he felt Clark's foot hitting his jaw. Tom stumbled back, his book in hand and approached the boy once again to keep fighting.

"Boys !" Mrs. Cole shouted behind. She approached and stood in the middle of them. "What is going on over here ?"

"He fucking broke my nose that's what's going on there !" Clark accused.

Mrs. Cole looked at Tom and his split lip. She gave him a questioning look, silently asking who had begun.

"He punched me first for no reason !" Clark spat. "He's just a freak. Everyone knows that. Right Grant ?"

Tom looked at the other boy, the one that did not open his mouth since the beginning of the altercation. Grant looked back, at least for a moment, before dropping his gaze toward the grass.

"I-I.." Grant stuttered.

"Right Grant ?" Clark repeated.

"I didn't see anything." He finally lied.

Mrs. Cole exhaled exasperated and ordered Tom to go back to his room. She got closer to Clark and inspected his nose while Tom walked past them.

Just as the summer before when Tom shoved Grant in an empty room, he moved forward the scared boy, an evil grin plastered on his angelic face and patted Grant's right cheek.

The other boy tensed underneath the touch. "Good boy." Tom whispered.

OoOoOo

10.07.1943 :

It was raining torrent in London that day. Tom was sitting on the windowsill, a stolen cigarette between his lips. It was late afternoon and his small room was only illuminated by the constant flashes of lighting coming from the dark sky. He took a long drag and let the smoke come out of his mouth without exhaling it.

He took her letter, the one that Clark had torn in two. On one of the two pieces, at the bottom of it, in her perfect cursive handwriting, was simply written : leap of faith.

OoOoOo

 **13.06.1943** :

"Isn't it obvious Tom ? I want to join you." She replied.

Tom remembered everything she had just said and realised that it all made sense. She had played him. And she had played him well. Tom was not easily impressed, but tonight, at this moment, standing in front of this girl, he was.

 _"Isn't it obvious Tom ? I want to join you."_

There was a moment of hesitation from Tom. He wondered if she was to be taken seriously, or if she was to be laughed at. Tom burst out laughing. Grace stayed stoic.

She had her clothes and hair disheveled. The light escaping from the skylight illuminated her cheekbones and made her seem more fierce than ever. She was holding her wand in her right hand, but Tom knew she had no intention of using it against him.

"I want in." She said after a minute of silence.

"You do not even know what you want in."

"But I know what you want."

"Of course you know Grace. It is simple. I want a name. I want recognition. I want to influence the behaviour of others or the course of events. I want the ability to choose whether to act or not act. I want the ability to cause or prevent an action. I want to make things happen."

"Say it Tom."

"Say what ?"

"You want power. And there is no shame in wanting it."

Tom simply smirked. "If you know that I want power, you must also know that I will not share it."

"Who said anything about sharing ?"

Grace bore a mischievous grin.

"I believe this is the moment where I should blindly trust you, because you said the right words. Isn't it right Grace ?" Tom took a step forward.

"It's a leap of faith." As she said the words, she handed him his wand back. "I don't think you have thought through it all."

Tom took his wand back. They stared at each other. He finally nodded. At the same time, they sat on the floor.

"Let's talk then."

* * *

18.07.1943 :

Hermione was sat in a large armchair near a bay window. The sun was illuminating the room and the letter she was currently re-reading. She had received it a couple of days priors and the thin paper had become wrinkled by how many times she had read it.

Hermione began unconsciously scratching her left forearm. One or two minutes later she hissed from the pain and saw blood on her fingers. The Madblood was barely visible underneath the scratches.

OoOoOo

 **14.06.1943** :

They had come back to the common room soon after midnight, she had directly flew to her dorm and locked herself in the bathroom. Hermione only had the time to get close to the toilets that she threw up. While still being bent above toilet bowl, she cast a wordless silencing charm doubled with a locking charm.

Hermione approached the sink and splashed cold water on her face.

"You're never going to come back." She whispered to her reflection in the mirror. "You're stuck." Hermione lightly punched the sink with her right hand. "You're completely alone." She punched it harder this time. "You've got no one." She punched it with all her forces. "You've got no plan." She hit it again. "You've got no way to come back." Again. Again. Again.

Her right hand was entirely covered in her blood. She saw the signet ring and took it out of her broken finger. She violently threw it on the ground. She felt her throat closing up, she took a hold of her tie. Green. She ripped it off her neck and sent it across the room.

She couldn't breathe, she felt like choking so she went to open the first buttons of her shirt, her fingers trembling as she tried. She let out a frustrated scream and tear her shirt open, the latter falling on the ground. She attempted at breathing but no air would get in her lungs. Hermione paced the room, sat for just a second on the toilet but quickly got up and paced again. Her ragged breath, her silent tears.

She stopped abruptly. "Dumbledore."

She rose her head. "You have to see Dumbledore. You have to tell him. Everything. If you tell him everything, maybe he could help you." Hermione put her head in her hands and tried to think. "He might know how to get you back. Yes. Yes ! You explain everything. The war, the painting."

Hermione closed her mouth and fixed the ground for several minutes. "No. You can't go see him. There was no painting."

Her entire plan revolved around one thing. The painting. She had spent months talking to each painting in this castle to find information about it. About where it could be. It was nowhere the other paintings knew about. But she remembered it. It was a Slytherin on it. So it meant only one thing : it should be in Slughorn's private apartments. That is why she did everything she could to get in the Slug Club, to get in his private apartments. However, she had only been invited to his Christmas Dinner, never to his actual "Slug Club Meetings".

On the ninth of January, luck finally was on her side. An attack, one she had forgotten about, lead her to Slughorn private's apartments. She had looked around and she had found nothing. The painting was not there.

Only one possibility remained.

It was supposed to be easy. She knew that on this day, on the 13th of June 1943, Tom Marvolo Riddle would open for the first time the Chamber of Secret, release the Basilisk, kill Myrtle Warren and create a Horcrux out of this murder.

She just had to take the Felix Felicis just before getting inside, after retrieving Harry's glasses from Dippet's office. This liquid luck would have guided her towards the paintings without getting trouble from Tom or the Basilisk.

But none of that happened.

"You can't talk to Dumbledore. You can't go talk to anyone. You've got no one. You're all alone."

She felt light-headed, she stumbled toward the sink and gripped it tightly. Her head was bent above the bowl, her mouth agape and her eyes closed. She heard the pearls of sweat gently falling on the porcelain below. She slowly opened her eyes and fixed the white sink, then her gaze moved towards her left hand, then ascended to her left forearm. Madblood.

She lost it.

She screamed. She pressed the palm of her hand on it and tried to erase it. Her skin became red from the pressure she put on it. Finally, she dug her fingernails in the scar. She pulled, trying to get it off her skin, trying to get finally get rid of it. She didn't care about the blood or the pain, she needed it gone. She kept going at it. Her throat became hoarse from her cries of pain.

Seeing this scar just reminded her that she had done it for nothing. She was stuck.

She rose her head and as she saw her reflection in the mirror she stopped. Her arms fell by her side, the blood pooled by her feet. Her gaze fell down and she slightly moved her feet, feeling the liquid underneath them. She then saw the scar on her calf, the pink scar tissue. Her gaze then went up to her thighs covered in bruises. Then her stomach and the end of another scar. She followed it with her eyes, curving under her breast and ascending toward her collarbone.

Hermione didn't stop on her choker one, already used to seeing it every day. She finally looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her entire face was red, from the blood she has smeared on it. Her eyes were red, puffy and wet. Her lips were chapped and split from biting on it. Her cheek still had the scar Tom had given her earlier tonight.

She sobbed.

"I am going to die here."

OoOoOo

18.07.1943 :

Next to her, she heard someone stirring in their sleep. She put the letter inside a book and approached the bed.

" _Bien dormi ?_ " Hermione smiled at Grace's grandmother. (Trad : Have you slept well ?)

They had the same conversation every time Dahlia woke up. The old lady asked her what she was doing here, how long she had been asleep, why Hermione had not gone out and enjoy the summer weather. Hermione just smiled.

" _Arrête de passer toutes tes journées à côté d'une vieille femme. Tu devrais profiter de tes journées, de tes vacances ma petite fleur_." Dahlia gently told her. (Trad : Stop spending your time with an old lady like myself. You should enjoy your days, your holidays my little flower.)

" _Je te l'ai déjà dis grand-mère. Je pars au Danemark début août. Je vais voir la finale de Quidditch_." (Trad : I have already told you, grandma. I'm going to Denmark at the beginning of August. I'm going to see the final of the Quidditch World Cup.)

Grace's grandmother smiled, like every time Hermione said this sentence. Someone gently knocked on the door and entered the white room. A nurse approached the two women and silently asked for permission to administer Dahlia's daily care. Hermione smiled and nodded before lounging back into the comfortable armchair. She watched for a couple of seconds the nurse asking Dahlia questions about how she was feeling before grabbing back the book and reading the letter once again.

* * *

25.07.1943 :

With his coat above his head to shelter himself from the rain, Tom walked quickly through Knockturn Alley. As he saw the shop's sign from afar, he picked up the pace. He pushed the door open and entered the dark store. A thin man was standing behind the counter, weighing him up.

"I imagined you younger." The man said in an awful cockney accent. He had one of his front teeth chipped. Tom took a few steps and put an envelope on the counter causing a muffled sound.

"Where do I have to sign ?" The man asked. Tom took out a parchment out of his coat and slid the paper to him.

"Just there." Tom pointed at the end of the paper with a pen. The shop owner took the pen and was ready to sign before he stopped.

"Let me check them first. I'll be right back."

"No." Tom spat. "If you want to check them, you do it in front of me."

At that, Barjow smirked. "Smart boy." He opened the envelope and took out the two tickets. He put them under a light and examined them. He nodded.

"I have told you they were real." Tom flatly said.

"Excuse me for doubting their authenticity when a boy gives Quidditch final tickets to me in exchange for a simple signature."

Barjow put the tickets in a cupboard and proceeded in analysing the paper he was supposed to sign.

"Wales ?" The man mocked.

"Am I asking for your opinion ?" Tom rhetorically asked. "Sign the bloody paper and I will be on my way."

The owner took the pen between his dirty fingers and signed. Tom took back the paper along the pen and secured them in his coat's inside pocket. He turned around and approached the door. Next to it, laid on an old chair, a newspaper, Tom grabbed it to shield himself from the pouring rain outside. He put his hand on the doorknob and pulled. He rose his head and looked at the tiny doorbell that just rang.

"Boy !" Barjow called behind him. "If you ever need a job, we're looking."

Tom turned his head and snorted. Without responding, he stepped outside and took a quick look at the newspaper. He opened it to put it above his head when he stopped and really looked at the article in front of his eyes : Rubeus Hagrid, 13 years old, released from Azkaban.

OoOoOo

 **13.06.1943** :

"Let's talk then."

"You have one urgent problem Tom. Above us, there is the body of a fourteen-year-old girl." Grace stated.

"We are both aware of that. What is the problem ?"

 _She will not tell anyone. So what is the problem ?_

"The problem is that everyone will be looking for the murderer. Because Tom, you didn't even think about playing her death as an accident. You didn't think at all."

Tom didn't answer. He realised that he was too focused on the Horcrux to think about things like that.

"Let's make it appear like an accident then." He simply suggested.

Grace chuckled. "We can't do that Tom. Who accidentally dies like that ?" They looked at each other in silence for a couple of seconds.

"There was a murder. They will be looking for the murdered." Grace stopped like she was thinking about what she was going to say. "If they don't find one, they're going to close Hogwarts."

"It is impossible. They did not close it when Grindelwald attacked the school. Do you really think they are going to close it for that ?"

"You really haven't thought about that at all." She realised. "Once again Tom, you need help. And once again, I can provide."

Tom intensely looked at her, trying to figure out what the solution was.

"You need a culprit Tom." Grace smirked. "I have one ready for you."

Tom was taken aback. The girl sitting in front of him, the one who seemed so fragile at the beginning of the year and weak in the eyes of everyone, was probably one of the most cunning people he had ever met.

"Once they will find the body, they will start investigating and asking questions to everyone susceptible to having information. You, Tom, as one of the six prefects on round tonight, you will be asked first. Of course, you won't give any information at first because, like a normal person, you will be shocked to hear about the murder of the girl. But as the days go by, we will all hear talks about closing the school. And that is where you enter Tom. You will inform Dippet of the presence of a dangerous beast living in the Gryffindor 3rd-year boys dorm room..."

Tom knew what she was talking about. He had had a conversation with the boy who the dangerous beasts belonged to.

"... I believe you are acquainted with Rubeus Hagrid." Grace finished. "So you will accuse him. Dippet, as usual, will believe everything you say. Of course, they will find the beast and Hagrid will be sent to Azkaban. But don't feel guilty Tom, he won't stay there. A thirteen-years-old boy in a prison and one who is close to Dumbledore ? He will be released during the summer." Grace began laughing a little. "And I'm sure they're will reward you for some shite like service given to the school."

Tom looked at her, simply stared, impressed by her mind.

 _Maybe you are right Grace. I need you in._

 _But you will need to give me more._

OoOoOo

25.07.1943 :

On one hand, Tom was relieved because no one reassessed his accusations. On the other hand, Tom was mad because, once again, she had been right.

* * *

04.08.1943 :

Hermine smiled at the sun high above in the blue sky. It was hot outside and even though Hermione only wore light clothes, she still felt hot. She entered the clinic Pitié-Salpêtrière and felt the cooling charm dry the little pearls of sweat on her forehead. She approached the front desk and greeted the medi-witch behind it.

Hermione directly took the stairs and went up two floors. She gently knocked on the door and pushed it open, a smile already drawn on her pink lips.

" _Bonjour grand-mère !_ " Hermione approached the old lady who had sat on the bed a book in hand. Dahlia Hortense rose her head and stared at the young witch. She didn't talk for a few seconds.

" _Je suis désolée pour le retard ! J'ai commencé à faire mes valises pour le Danemark et j'avais oublié que j'avais autant d'affaires_." Hermione laughed. (Trad : I am sorry I am late ! I started packing for Denmark and hadn't realised that I had that much stuff.)

The grandmother still hadn't said a word so Hermione kept going. "As-tu déjà mangé ?" (Trad : Have you eaten yet ?)

" _Qui êtes-vous ?_ " Dahlia finally uttered. (Trad : Who are you ?)

" _C'est moi, ta petite fille_." (Trad : It' me, your granddaughter.)

This type of conversation happened quite often. Hermione knew how to deal with it. She simply had to remind her that she had a granddaughter and that she was named Grace.

" _Vous n'êtes pas ma petite fille. Je connais ma petite fille. Vous n'êtes pas Grace._ " (Trad : You are not my granddaughter. I know my granddaughter. You are not Grace.)

Hermione froze, her heart stopped. She calmed herself and simply tried again. She explained that she was her granddaughter and that Dahlia had dementia. However, the french woman didn't believe her. Hermione could see the panic in her eyes, she could hear her calling for her real granddaughter.

Hermione knew at this moment that Dahlia Hortense was completely lucid. The old French woman looked with horror at Hermione, realising that the witch standing in front of her had done something horrible to her granddaughter. Hermione could help but feel disgusted by herself, for what she had done, for what she was currently doing and for what she was about to do.

 _You can't do that Hermione. You're not ready._

Even if Dahlia Hortense was not Hermione's real grandmother, a real relationship had been established between the two women. Hermione felt her heart clench in her chest. She slowly took out her wand and hid it behind her back.

She knew the spell. She knew the wand movement. In a flick of a wand, Hermione saw Dahlia's eyes lose all remembrance.

Hermione sat down on the same large armchair she had sat in for the last couple of weeks. She looked as Dahlia stopped talking. She looked as Dahlia laid down her head on the pillow, her eyes unfocused. She looked as the woman she called grandma for a year started softly singing to herself.

 _Sorry._

Without giving her another look, Hermione flew out from the room too focused on not crying.

* * *

04.08.1943 :

The wagon was empty. Tom had put his luggage on the compartment above his place and had sat down on the velvet bench. He felt the train slowing down and he looked outside the window. The usual grey sky of England enveloped the countryside. He dropped his gaze once again on Edmund's letter.

" _Tom,_

 _I just arrived in Denmark. I know the game does not start until the 6th but the birds are pretty over there. Too bad you are not here._

 _Edgard had already tried to bed one. Try is the keyword here._

 _Everyone is betting on how many days this final game will last for. I bet on a month. Hopefully, I am right and I will not be able to attend old Maybeth's wedding._

 _By the way, I have news. The car boot sale had already started. Clever to do it during the Quidditch World Cup. No one will talk about it. Antonin is already here. Alone, however. I do not think his father will come._

 _I will bring you something from the game._

 _Edmund._

 _PS : Still cheering for France right ?_ "

Tom was not surprised. He would have done the same if he were in Tuft's shoes. The Quidditch World Cup was the perfect decoy.

He heard the controller blow his whistle. "Next stop : Little Hangleton."

* * *

05.08.1942 :

A small window on the first floor of the brick house was the only source of light visible. The rain was pouring around her, drenching her clothes. She had decided to come here in the spur of the moment but as she knocked on the door she regretted it.

 _What are you doing ?_

She heard the loud voice mumbling something inaudible but she knew it was because it was late. It was a little before 4AM. He descended the wooden stairs and got closer to the door. In a loud crack, the latter opened. Hermione rose her head and saw the imposing backlit figure of Abelforth.

"Grace ?" He said surprised but happy to see her. "You're drenched ! You must be freezing. Come insi…"

"I can't do this anymore." She cut him.

She looked like a scared child with her big eyes filled with tears, her clothes sticking to her body from the rain and her voice breaking as she talked.

She was staring at him as if she had just realised who was standing in front of her.

"Grace, come inside. I'll put the kettle on the fire. We can talk over a cup of tea…"

"I can't do this anymore."

"Come on Grace, come inside, we'll talk about it."

Abelforth turned slightly his body to the right side as a sign for Hermione to enter his home. The light coming from the chimney finally enlightened her entire face. She was looking frightened, exhausted and completely lost.

"Grace ?" His voice turned worried.

"I'm not Grace." She muttered. She could taste the salt of her tears on her lips.

"What ? Come inside, it's late Grace."

"I'm not." She let out a humourless laugh.

She must have looked crazy in Abe's eyes. A sixteen-years-old girl, on his doorstep at 4AM during summer holidays when she was supposed to be in France and saying nonsense.

"I'm not Grace." She repeated. She put both of her hands in her long wet hair and smiled. "I finally said it. I'm not Grace. I'm not Grace !"

Abelforth had never seen her ramble that way, not caring about the words coming out of her mouth. She was not analysing her sentences like she used to do. He had never seen her this carefree.

"But you are Grace." He insisted, getting confused.

"I'm not Grace. Never been her and never will be. Never been born in France. Never studied at BeauxBatons. Never been the _only survivor._ Never had parents named Theodorus and Beatrice. Never been an half-blood. Never grew up in a wizarding family. Never been part of this war. I'm not even from _this_ time, _this_ era." Hermione rushed.

She took the breath she was holding for the past couple of seconds.

"I was born in 1979 in London. I studied at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I've never heard of magic until I was eleven. I am the daughter of two dentists named Charles and Jean. I am muggle born. I have my own war ! I have my own people waiting for me back home ! And I hope I'm not the only survivor."

Hermione chuckled through the tears. Her chest felt light. As she took a ragged breath she felt like she could finally properly breathe.

"I'm not Grace." She repeated one last time.

Silence settled. Hermione realised what she had just said. She rose her head expecting to see Abe's face filled with horror but she only found acceptance.

She was still the same girl he had met months prior, the one who impressed him, who made him laugh, who found the way to his heart through the layers of grief. She could have been anyone and he wouldn't have cared. And at this moment, he didn't.

"What should I call you then ?" He simply asked her.

* * *

06.08.1942 :

Tom never had the intention to go to Wales. He just needed a signed authorization to leave the orphanage for a few days.

Tom had just closed the door behind him that he was fixing the wrinkles on his grey trousers. The conversation had been short but more than interesting.

Tom had done three things in his uncle's shack near Little Hangleton. First he learned the truth. Second, he stole his wand. And third, he made him forget he was ever here.

* * *

08.08.1942 :

"Pollux, I really need to go." Hermione rushed.

"But Grace, they haven't caught the snitch yet." Pollux retorted without tearing his gaze away from the Quidditch field.

"It's been two days now ! And I don't need your authorisation to go to the loo." She laughed.

They were sitting in the presidential box, a good bottle of champagne and canapés between them. Pollux was in the middle of Hermione and Cole, clearly enjoying the final between France and Bresil.

They were the only three underaged wizard in this box. The French and Brazilian prime ministers were at the front, surrounded by some close members of their cabinets. Warwick Woodcroft, Cole's father, as Head of Department of Magical Games and Sports for England, was chatting over a glass of champagne with other government members.

Cole turned his head and looked right at her. "Do you know where it is ? Or do you need me to show you ?"

"I won't deter you from watching the game." Hermione softly smiled. Cole smiled back then focused once again on the Quidditch.

Hermione stood and left the box. She looked around her for any information regarding the location of the toilets. Without any sign in sight, she decided on going left. Three floors below she stopped as she saw a small corridor. She followed it and walked a couple of meters before she heard what seemed like a very interesting conversation.

"Not here." Someone roughly hushed.

Hermione did the only thing she could do at this moment, she followed them after casting a Notice-Me-Not on herself. The two men turned right into an alcove and checked their surroundings before continuing their conversation.

"You can't do that now." The smaller one whispered vehemently. "I am on the verge of taking his place."

"You're not even sure Avery's going be benched." The tall one pointed out.

"After Dolohov ? Do you really think she's going to keep him ? Do you really think that he's going to approve of the new department of Transitional…"

"Shut it. Are you mad ?" He hastily responded. "No one knows about that yet. The black dog hasn't given his full approval."

"Yet."

A loud noise startled them. They both turned around and Hermione caught a glimpse of their faces before rushing out of the corridor.

 _What the fuck ?_

On her way, she violently bumped into someone. She rapidly undid the charm on herself and faced the person she had just crashed into.

"Grace !" The boy said surprised.

"Silas !" She responded with the same tone.

The Ravenclaw seemed uneasy and kept looking around them. Hermione followed his gaze and she realised they were standing in front of the men's toilets.

"How are you ? I haven't seen you since… Myrtle's wake." Hermione told him with a twinge of guilt.

"Fine. I am just waiting for… for my cousin." He obviously lied.

Hermione had always liked Silas Burnstein. They shared a few classes and had worked together in the past. He was nice, funny and genuinely kind.

"I need to take a leak." He blurted out before rushing into the bathroom behind them.

 _Weird._

Hermione went up again to the presidential box, lost in her thoughts. She hadn't heard the cheers around her nor had she seen the blue, white and red fireworks high in the sky.

"You won !" Pollux rushed into her.

The latter took her by the waist and lifted her from the ground. Due to the amount of alcohol in his system for the past couple of days, he lost his balance and Hermione felt like falling backward. Cole caught her before she could hit the ground and helped her stand up.

"Pollux mate, careful. And stop drinking." Woodcroft lightly bantered.

"But we won !"

"You're wearing the Brazilian kit Pollux." Hermione laughed.

"You're just jealous because I look good in those colours." Pollux teased.

Cole and Hermione shared a glance and rolled their eyes.

"Well France won, let's celebrate !" Hermione smiled at them.

French people were loudly singing their national anthem. The field was crowded with drunk and laughing people, all wearing blue, white and red. So was she. Hermione looked at her right and saw Pollux, proudly wearing the losing team colours : green and yellow. Pollux wasn't a fan of the Bresil Quidditch Team, he just dressed up that way to annoy her.

"You're sticking out like a sore thumb." Hermione laughed at him.

"At least people are noticing me." Parkinson grinned.

Hermione rolled her eyes but still had a smile on her lips. "You look like a twat Pollux."

Pollux, who was taking a sip of his beer, spilled the all thing at Cole's face, standing in front of him. Cole was about to insult Pollux when someone put his arm around his neck and yelled at this face. "We won !"

"You're not french Isodor." Hermione laughed, slightly scratching her left forearm.

"Once I've married you I will be." Avery smirked, obviously drunk. Cole shoved him.

Isodor Avery was known for being a flirty drunk on top of being an over-enthusiastic child.

"So where are we getting even drunker now ?" Cole asked.

"Doesn't your father has some VIP shite or something ?" Pollux chuckled.

Cole shoved it in the ribs. "Shove it wanker."

She was looking at the boys surrounding her. One was missing.

"Where's Thorus ?" She asked.

"He saw a friend of his and left." Milton shrugged.

"Maybe he is scoring with a girl." Abraxas snickered. "You wouldn't know what it's like, right Lestrange ?"

Edgard flipped him off. Pollux put his arm around Hermione's shoulder and spoke up. "Don't worry Lestrange, I can give you some pointers. " Pollux turned his head towards Hermione who was drinking her beer and laughed. "Come on then kiddo, let's get fucking wasted. Tonight we're celebrating France, and I really feel like frenching."

Hermione laughed, a buzzing sound ringing in her ears.

* * *

08.08.1942 :

Tom was lying on the floor. His dark hair, normally impeccable, was disheveled and was hiding a part of his face. His skin was even paler than usual. His grey suit was dusty and wrinkled. He had been laying down there for a couple of hours now.

The fire in the chimney formed shadows on his face, and they looked like they were dancing on his cheekbones. A funeral dance.

His son was looking down at him while playing with his new ring, only hearing a buzzing sound. The son bearing the same name. The son who was the spitting image of him in his early years. The son who had just committed patricide. The son who had just lost a piece of his soul. Again.

* * *

25.08.1942 :

The funeral went well, the few people who came had already left. Hermione was staring at the grave, Abelforth on her left and the three Slytherins, Pollux, Cole and Isodor, a few meters behind. They stood like that for a few more minutes.

Pollux approached the two of them and leaned to whisper to Abe. "Maybe we should leave her alone for a bit."

The bartender looked at her and saw the panic in her eyes. "I don't think we should. Let's just head back to her house."

Hermione saw, from the corner of her eyes, Pollux nodding and starting walking slowly out of the cemetery along with the other boys. She was now alone with Abe. He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

She rose her head and met his gaze.

"Ready to leave Hermione ?" Abe whispered.

They both turned around and headed toward where the others were waiting for them, leaving the floral grave behind.

OoOoOo

Hermione had just seen Pollux take the floo in her living room. Isodor and Cole had already left two hours before.

She joined Abe on the porch behind the house. He was sat on a garden couch.

"Do you want something else to drink ?" She asked him. She chuckled at her own question.

"Weird when it's the other way around, right ?" He chuckled with her. "I'm good."

She sat in front of him, crossed-legged on the other couch. "Come on. Ask away."

"We don't need to do that _today_."

"My grandmother was called Elisabeth. Not Dahlia, Abe. I'm sad. But I'm okay."

"Alright. Well, the last time we talked, you told me your real name then fell asleep on my couch and ran away the next morning. I've got millions of questions."

"You know I won't be able to tell you everything."

"I will take what you give. Nothing else."

"Well, you know my name. My parent's names. My birthday. That I'm a muggle-born."

"Why are you here ?" He asked her.

Hermione shrugged.

"You can't tell me ?" Abe supposed.

"No. That's not it. I just don't know myself." Hermione took a deep breath. "I come from a time where there is a war. Worst than everything you could imagine. And my best friend is the only one who can stop the war."

Hermione began telling Abelforth her role during all these years, from their first year at Hogwarts to their year on the run, never mentioning any names.

"... it was the last battle. It was supposed to be the end of it. I got separated from him. I was blocked by ruins and I heard something. I saw a painting, it opened, I hopped in, I ran for what seemed like minutes, and when I reached the end of it, I was here. In 1942. I don't know what happened. I tried to find it ! I had a plan Abe, an entire plan prepared to find it and go home."

"A plan ?" He simply asked.

"When I first arrived in 1942, I began thinking about how I could go back. I had a room at the Leaky Cauldron, I barely got out for the first two months. I had gathered every piece of information I might need. By July 1942, I had a plan ready. It had six steps."

Hermione had deliberately taken out one step of the plan. She couldn't tell him that she had stolen the Felix Felicis and put the blame on Pax Zabini.

She looked at him and made a quick pause. She was about to tell him everything she had been working on for the past year, something she had never imagined telling anyone. Abe gently smiled at her, encouraging her to continue.

"I first had to get into Hogwarts and start a correspondence with Professor Slughorn. I would need him later.

I then got close to the lads. I knew they were in the good graces of Professor Slughorn.

I needed to impress professor Slughorn during my potions classes and my private one too. I needed him to find me worthy of his Slug Club. I needed to get invited. I thought the painting to be in his private apartments."

Hermione stopped. She couldn't tell him anything else. She couldn't tell him that because the painting was not in his private apartments she knew it could be in the Chamber of Secrets. She couldn't tell him, that on the 13th of June she wandered in the castle at night, that she found Tom, that she saw Myrtle's body. She couldn't tell him anything, because if she did, Abe would know she was an accomplice.

"Well, I didn't find the painting." She cut short.

Abe was looking at her. He put both of his elbows on his thighs and he was closely listening to everything she had to say.

"What about Grace ?" He asked.

A loud silence settled. Her eyes became wet and she lowered her gaze towards the grass.

"You don't have to." He assured her. Abe opened his mouth to ask another question when she cut him.

"I burned her body." She barely whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. "God, I burned her body." Hermione sobbed. "I stole everything from her ! Her identity, her past and her future. I live in her house, I can't sleep in her bed, I sleep on the couch. I buried her parents and I just buried her grandmother."

Without saying a word, Abe stood up and sat next to her. He put his arm around her shoulders and Hermione fell into the embrace. Her face in his chest, clutching at him.

"It's going to be okay." He whispered before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

* * *

27.08.1943 :

All the lads and Tom were sat at the terrace of Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor. They had just finished shopping for their sixth-year classes and felt like having a drink before heading back to their own ways.

"... and Pollux was so drunk.." Edgard was telling Tom an anecdote about the party after the Quidditch final. "well, we were all really drunk but he started frenching a woman who turned out to be the wife of the fuckin Romanian president !"

They all laughed.

"And then Grace suggested him to work in international relations." Abraxas finished the story with a small chuckle.

Thorus turned in his seat to face Isodor, who was the only one eating a large ice cream.

"By the way mate, how is she ? You went, right ?" Nott asked genuinely concerned.

 _What are they talking about ?_

"I think she was touched that we were there. And don't worry she totally understands that you and Milton couldn't make it." Avery answered.

"What are you on about ?" Tom chipped in.

"Haven't you heard ? Her grandmother died." Dolohov answered without caring.

"And you went ?" Tom asked Isodor.

"Yes. Milton and Thorus couldn't come so we were just the three of us, Pollux, Cole and I."

Tom simply nodded while taking a sip of his butterbeer.

"By the way, are we still on for the second Thursday of September ?" Edmund changed the subject.

"Yes." Tom said. "Fifth floor."

OoOoOo

01.09.1943 :

" _Dear Tom,_

 _I hope my letter finds you well._

 _I have tried to find the answer to your last letter. However, no one knows yet who will be the appointed defense against the dark arts teacher._

 _Regarding Dolohov, I already told you that he still hasn't understood yet. His father is already out, it is just not official. But I believe you already knew that._

 _I figured you got many intel during your shopping with the lads. One of them being my grandmother's death. By the way, thank you for sending your condolences._

 _I think I need to return them. I was sorry to hear about your loss and your father's death. "Men sooner forget the death of their father than the loss of their patrimony"._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Grace_ "

Tom had received this letter the day before, and as he read it again he was still wondering how she knew so much.

He was alone in the wagon compartment. He folded the letter and put it in his bag. The door opened and he rose her head to face her.

"Hi Tom." She simply said.

"Hello Grace."

* * *

 **Author's notes : **

**Hi guys,**

 **Here's the new chapter, so it's kinda like a transitional chapter between 5th year and 6th year. We know you are waiting for some Tom and Hermione/Grace interactions and we promise you're gonna get some in the next chapter ahah.**

 **We also wanted to point out that Abe is the anagram of Bae and it seems logic because we love him so much.**

 **Thank you for all of your reviews, you can't imagine how much we love to read them (we actually call each other everytime we have one).**

 **Let's get this 6th year started.**

 **Lots of love,**

 **-DDM's Managers**


	15. THE NIGHT WE MET

**"Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

 **CHAPTER FIFTEEN : THE NIGHT WE MET**

* * *

 _Song : The Night We Met by Lord Huron_

01.09.1943 :

"Hi Tom."

"Hello Grace."

As Hermione sat in front of Tom, she felt his gaze following her movement. She took a good look at him. Hermione expected him to be much more different than the last time she saw him, he had lost another part of his soul. However, he was no different. He may have grown a few centimeters, his shoulders may have broadened a little, but he was still the same.

"How are you ?" Tom simply asked.

"Since when do you care ?" Hermione smirked.

Tom snorted and nodded his head a little. "Yes. You are right." He looked at her and cocked slightly his head to the left. "I only have a couple of minutes Grace. Do you have something for me ?"

A few days after Myrtle Warren's murder, Tom had come to her. He had explained that to get in his little circle she had to give a piece of valuable information. She had sneered and had reminded him that she was the reason why he was still free. But Tom didn't care, because what had happened on the 13th of June was not part of what she wanted in. And just like everyone, every lad, she had to offer him something to prove her value.

Hermione knew that she was already valuable and that Tom knew it too.

"Of course I have something for you."

They both heard the lads from afar coming their way.

"Tonight, 11PM, Quidditch bleachers."

Hermione nodded. The wagon's door burst open and the lads entered. The tense atmosphere that surrounded the wagon a couple of seconds priors was gone, and as Tom and Hermione looked at each other, they both saw the other one slipping back into their usual character.

"Hi lads !" She smiled. "I'll catch up with you later, I have all my stuff in Pollux and Cole's compartment." She shot a last glance at Tom with a small smirk on her face standing up to leave.

"Isn't Pollux fed up with you yet ? You've already forced him to stay with you." Dolohov sneered.

"What are you on ?" Edgard said, lost.

"From what I've heard, Hortense couldn't stay alone in her house back in France after her being officially the last member of her family."

Hermione wasn't particularly mad at what Dolohov was saying. She was angry that he tried to hurt her where he knew it should hurt.

"Wow Antonin. You're going too far there. Have some respect." Thorus intervened.

"You know Dolohov" Hermione smirked. "For someone who doesn't like me, you sure take a lot of interest in my personal life."

On this, Hermione left the compartment and found herself in the small corridor of the Hogwarts Express. She noticed Cole and Pollux on the far left, she went to open the door but caught a part of their conversation.

"You're in complete denial." Cole spat.

"And you are exaggerating." Pollux replied through gritted teeth.

"Try to see it from my point of view Pollux"

"I am trying."

"You sure look like you're…"

Someone in the corridor slightly pushed her to pass and Hermione stood in front of the glass door. The two Slytherin stopped talking. She slowly opened the door. Hermione could feel the tense atmosphere.

"You're still here Cole ? Aren't you going to be late for the prefect meeting ?" She smiled, trying to diffuse the tension.

"It can't start without him. Let them wait." Pollux grinned.

Hermione nodded and settled next to Cole.

"So tell me what you think Kiddo. I was telling Cole he should try out for the Quidditch team this year." Pollux explained. "It is his last year, and his father is the Head of the Department of Sports for Merlin's sake." Parkinson stopped and stared at Cole with his brows furrowed and his head cocked on the right. "Isn't it mandatory if your father is the head of the department ?"

"Fuck off." The blond replied fed up. He stood up to get out. "Maybe I will. At least one of us would try to do something." Cole left the compartment, leaving the two of them alone.

A silence followed Woodcroft's departure. Pollux put his right hand through his hair and exhaled. He stood up and went by the window. It opened in a small creak. Pollux took out a cigarette and lit it. Hermione went to approach him but saw him shake his head no. She settled back on the bench and waited for him to finish smoking. Once he sat back in front of her, he started talking.

"So, who you've gone to see ?"

"Tom and the lads."

"It's not Riddle anymore ?" Pollux genuinely asked.

Hermione only looked at him and scoffed.

A knock on the door startled Hermione. She looked towards the direction of the noise and noticed the trolley lady.

"I'm starving." Pollux exaggerated. "Would you be so kind as to provide me with some food ?"

"Yes." Hermione smirked while extending her hand asking him silently for some money.

The oldest Parkinson obliged and put some galleons in the palm of her hand. Hermione went to leave the compartment when she heard a chuckle from behind her. "Keep the change !"

Hermione closed the door behind her and approached the old lady.

"Hello sweetie, what could I get you ?"

"I'd take two Sugar Quills, some Dew Dew Psychodrops, and one Sugared Butterfly Wing, please."

While the lady looked for her candy inside her trolley, Hermione looked around her. She saw some first years, excited about seeing Hogwarts for the first time, already in their black robes. On the far right, she caught sight of two blond Ravenclaw playing exploding snaps. And finally, as she turned her head to the left, she caught a glimpse of Walburga Black, trying to leave her compartment but a hand preventing her to do so. Hermione took the candies, put them in her pocket and started approaching the compartment the two Blacks were in.

"Miss, don't forget your change." She heard the old lady telling her.

"Keep it." She said dismissively.

Hermione kept herself out of sight and listened to their conversation.

"I told you it was nothing." Walburga explained.

"Yes, you told me. Now you need to show it to me." Orion replied.

"I did ! I've put a stop to it, I talked to him, I can't do more. I've lost everything Orion." Hermione could hear the tears in her voice.

"Come on ! Stop acting like you're the only involved in this shitty deal. I've lost as much as you did, do you hear me complaining about it ? No, so keep it together."

They both stopped talking for a couple of seconds, and Hermione could imagine the tension between the two.

"So swear it." Orion finally spoke up.

"Swear what ?"

"Swear that you won't try anything with Cassandre Parkinson."

"I swear."

"Good. Now believe it."

On this, Orion Black left the compartment hastily. Hermione quickly turned around and went back to Pollux, the conversation still running through her mind. She silently sat in front of him.

 _Should you tell Pollux ?_

 _No. Hermione, you know that Walburga and Orion will get married._

 _You know that they'll have two children._

Hermione felt Pollux grabbing the candies from her pocket.

"Where's the change ?" He asked his mouth full. "I was joking when I told you to keep the change."

"You should have been more explicit." She smirked.

* * *

01.09.1943 :

Tom had his eyes fixed on his hand, playing with his new ring. He rose his head from the table as Milton spoke up. "I am starving."

"You've eaten half the trolley on the train." Malfoy sneered.

"I am a growing boy." The other one replied in a small voice.

"Not growing in the right way." Edmund snickered.

Dippet's voice stopped the conversation, and the entire hall went silent.

"Welcome back everyone. I am very pleased to see you all today and begin a new year with you. Without further announcements, please let the first year in Albus."

The doors of the Great Hall opened and masses of first-years, all anxious, followed the Deputy Headmaster towards the stool on which the sorting hat laid. Tom examined them trying to find out who will join the Slytherin rank's when a carefree laugh made him turn his head to the left. Grace was slightly leaning towards Pollux, laughing at something Cole just told them.

"Ok, let's get started." Pollux clapped his hands. "Kiddo, you're first."

Grace turned around and looked as the first kid was called. "George Aslan."

"Hmm… Gryffindor." She guessed.

"Noted. Cole ?" Pollux turned towards his best friend.

Woodcroft looked at Grace and narrowed his eyes. She looked at him with a small smirk on her lips. "Same as her." He finally said.

"Noted. I'd say Ravenclaw."

The three friends turned around and waited for the hat to decide which house to put the kid in. "RAVENCLAW !"

The entire Great Hall applauded, Pollux the loudest among them, grinning.

"It was just a lucky guess." Grace mumbled.

 _Sore loser it seems._

"Helsie Avery." Dumbledore called next.

Grace spun around and looked directly at Isodor who was trying to hide. She smiled then faced the two seventh-year once again.

"Slytherin." The three of them blurted out at the same time as the hat did.

The small blond first year approached the table and sat not far from where they were all gathered.

"Aren't you going to ask her to join us Avery ?" Tom mocked.

"Quit it Tom." The blond replied, his jaw clenched.

The lads began taking the piss out of the boy. Suddenly Grace called her. "Helsie. Come sit with us."

"Fuck you Grace." Isodor let his head drop to the table while the lads laughed all together.

Helsie approached them and sat in front of Pollux, next to Cole.

"Hi, I'm Grace Hortense. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Helsie Daisy Avery." The small girl smiled. Tom could see from the corner of his eye, Isodor silently mockingly imitating his little sister, as if she was used to doing that.

"Isodor never told us that you'd enter Hogwarts this year." Cole gently told the first year.

Once again Tom was faced with the fact that he was not in the inner circle. They all knew each other since birth. They all knew each other's family. And Tom did not. Yet.

"There is no one new." Abraxas noted. Tom looked at him, a questioning look on his face. "Professor. Look at the table, no one is in Merrythought's chair." Malfoy explained.

Tom's gaze met Grace's, they shared the same thought.

 _Who is it going to be ?_

The last first-year sat down at the Hufflepuff's table and Dippet rose from his seat.

"Welcome to the first years. You've been sorted in what will be your family for the next years to come. I count on all the prefects to make them feel welcome and help them if needed. Let me introduce you to the new HeadGirl and HeadBoy for the year 1943. Please give a round of applause to Matilda Biggs from Hufflepuff and Cole Woodcroft from Slytherin."

The two rose and smiled.

"As everyone knows, professor Merrythought left us last year." Dippet continued. "I guess you are all wondering who will replace her in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He could not be here tonight and won't be there for the next two months because of a prior engagement. Nonetheless, I hope you will give a warm welcome to Professor Aldritch when he will join our ranks..."

"Atticus Aldritch ?" Edgard asked the lads. Malfoy nodded.

"...For the meantime, Professor Wink and Professor Dumbledore will be in charge of this course. Professor Wink for the first four years, and Professor Dumbledore from the fifth year." Dippet finished.

The students applauded the two professors. Tom, reluctantly, followed his classmate and joined the applause. However, Grace didn't, confusion written all over her face.

"Well, we'll see how it goes." Dolohov spoke up.

OoOoOo

01.09.1943 :

Tom had both of his elbows on the guardrail, a cigarette between his lips, and his thumb playing with his ring. He readjusted his coat to keep himself warm against the cold air of September. As usual, Tom had his hair cut during the summer at Wool's Orphanage and he shivered as he felt a chill breeze on his bare ears.

"A new bad habit Tom ?" He heard Grace chuckled behind him. He turned around and saw her walking down the Quidditch bleachers, her hands in her pockets. She had her hair tucked into a dark scarf and a snarky smile on her pink lips.

"The list is getting longer." She finished.

"Are you keeping a list Grace ?" He smirked, inhaling the white smoke.

She snorted and settled next to him, her back leaning on the guardrail.

"So we are here. I am listening. What do you have for me ?" Tom asked her.

Grace was looking at the sky, the moonlight making her skin paler. "I've heard an interesting conversation." She replied without taking her eyes away from the night sky. "Tuft wants Avery out."

"Tell me something new Grace. I have known about that for months." Tom huffed, disappointed by her supposedly good information.

"But do you know the reason why she wants him out ?" Her eyes fell on him and a small silence settled.

"Tuft is planning on creating a new department. I couldn't catch the entire name, but it has something to do with a transition and Avery's job, so international magical cooperation. From what I heard, she wants him out because he won't approve of the new department." She turned to face him entirely. "Were you aware of that ?" She smirked.

"Where did you hear that ?"

"Quidditch World Cup. Don't know who they are though. But I saw their faces."

"So you could recognize them."

Grace simply nodded. Tom took the last drag out of his cigarette and threw it away. Grace's gaze fell on his hands and she stared for a couple of seconds.

"New ring ?" She noticed.

Tom snorted. "You know a lot of things about me Grace, whether I want it or not. I do not know how you know that much yet, but I am not willing to talk further about it."

 _I will not talk about it at all._

"Not until you have as much leverage on me as I have on you, right ?" She finished his thoughts.

Tom didn't answer and looked at the Quidditch pitch. They didn't talk for a couple of minutes, both not looking at each other. Tom finally took out his cigarette pack from his coat and lit another one.

"Do you remember the man they found in the ruins after the attack back in January ? The one whose body was butchered ?" She asked.

"Entrail-Expelling charm, from what they said." He competed.

"It was me."

Tom expressly turned around and saw her staring at the bleachers. "Here's your leverage Tom."

"What did he do to you ?"

"Nothing." She replied while facing him.

 _She is as twisted as I am._

"We are not that different Grace." He told her.

"Oh no, we are that different." Grace pointed his ring with her gaze.

 _And she does not even know it yet._

"So ?" She questioned.

Tom took a drag.

"2nd Thursday of September. Fifth floor."

Grace approached him even more, slightly leaning in his personal space. He kept his gaze steadily away from her. Her cold fingers slowly took out his almost finished cigarette from his hand. He turned his head and looked at her as she put the fag between her lips, her eyes set on him. She inhaled and let the white smoke out her mouth. Grace took a step back and put it out against the guardrail. With a final smirk, she turned around and left.

Riddle's turned his face one more time and looked at the goals.

 _The fuck was that ?_

OoOoOo

09.09.1943 :

Tom was sat at his desk, his gaze stuck on the professor. He couldn't help but feel already fed up with the entire situation. Defense Against the Dark Arts was one of the classes Tom was particularly interested in. He briefly scanned the room and saw the looks of admiration Dumbledore was getting. Including the lads. The only one who seemed as exasperated as he was, was Grace.

Tom kept looking at her, his mind wondering how so much anger and hatred settled between the professor and the french girl. She was absently doodling on a blank parchment, sometimes raising her head to look at the professor's desk. Tom squinted his eyes trying to get a better look at what she was drawing.

 _An "S" ?_

Dumbledore had just finished telling the curriculum for the year when he clapped loudly his hand. The entire class rose their heads and stared at their new DADA teacher.

"I can see you are all falling asleep, so let's get things started, shall we ?" The professor made a sign for all students to get up and with a flick of his wand, Dumbledore set the room ready for duels. Excitement spread around the room.

"Don't worry, nothing too rough today, just to get you back into practice." The redhead completed.

Tom leaned against a desk in between Dolohov and Avery. Dumbledore called out two names, and the two students stepped forward.

"You know what to do." Dumbledore simply told them.

The two Gryffindors bowed, got ready to fight and counted to three. This pattern repeated itself for other students. The lads were all commenting on the fights, some comments were constructive and other just purely useless. From time to time, Tom could hear Grace, seated next to Isodor, mumble her own comments.

"He lasted two minutes." Dolohov whispered. "I hope he lasts longer in bed."

At that, Isodor laughed loudly. Dumbledore turned toward him. "Mister Avery, would do us the honor of showing your skills ?"

The blond boy approached the middle of the room and waited for his opponent. Galbanda Greengrass was called next. They both got ready. Galbanda shot him a curse and Isodor stumbled back while shielding himself. Tom heard a loud exhale next to him. He slightly turned his head to the right and saw Grace.

"They never duck." She said to him, however keeping her gaze focused on the duel.

"We do not all have been on the battlefield Grace." Tom simply answered.

"And that's why you should take notes Tom." She smirked.

"You are too confident. Someone should put you back in your place." He replied.

"Humour me." She smirked.

 _Is that a challenge ?_

As the fight ended, Isodor joined them back.

"Miss Hortense." Dumbledore called.

"Professor, if I may… ?" Tom took a step forward.

"No you may not Tom." The professor cut him. "Mister Dolohov, you're up."

 _What is he playing at ? Everyone is well aware of the hatred between the two._

Dolohov turned to face Grace. "Don't go _mad_ on me."

Tom could see from the corner of his eyes Grace getting tensed. Tom finally got interested in the class, he wanted to see her fight, he needed to know how wild she would go on him. The two Slytherin got to the center of the room, and Tom saw it. The same smile she had sent him down in the Chamber of Secrets, the one that says "I am playing you."

"Remember no dark curses." Dumbledore simply said.

Grace and Antonin took out their wands at the same time. Everything happened too quickly for Tom to understand. In the end, Dolohov was on the ground and Grace smiling with two wands in her hands. A loud silence settled. No one moved, no one talked.

"The fuck ?" Dolohov shouted while standing up.

"Don't be a sore loser Dolohov." Grace sneered.

Tom couldn't help but loudly snort at the sassiness.

"You're fucking mad. You can't do that !" Dolohov turned to face Dumbledore. "She can't do that, right ?!"

"There is no can or cannot here Dolohov. Do you really think people count to three in the real world ? For once in your life Dolohov, try to learn something from your failures. There are so many to come I'm sure." Grace continued.

Antonin took large steps forward, his eyes reflecting the anger within him. Dumbledore settled between the two of them. "Mister Dolohov step back." He said. The student didn't listen. "Mister Dolohov step back." The professor repeated in a menacing voice.

"She can't do that." Antonin defended himself. "I wasn't ready. I want a rematch."

"She shouldn't have done that." Dumbledore replied. "However, she is right."

Dumbledore addressed to the entire class. "We are in class, and I know there is a protocol to follow. Nonetheless, in a real fight, you need to be ready for everything."

The latter asked the two Slytherin to get back to their spot.

"What a cunt." Antonin whispered to him when he sat on the desk next to Tom.

Tom simply snickered.

Dumbledore clapped his hands to get the students' attention. "Thank you everyone, we will stop here for today. I expect you to read the introduction and the first chapter for the next session."

The students gathered their belongings and went to leave the room. Tom gave a head sign to the lads telling them to wait for him outside and went by Grace's side.

"You did it on purpose, didn't you ?" He began.

She put the last parchment in her bag and rose her head. Her hair was put in a messy bun put some strands were circling her face. She tucked them back behind her ear before answering.

"I don't like him."

Tom opened his mouth to remind her Dolohov was a part of what she was now a part of, but Dumbledore interrupted him. "Miss Hortense, may I have a word with you please ?"

* * *

09.09.1943 :

"Miss Hortense, may I have a word with you please ?"

Hermione tore her eyes away from Tom and looked at her new DADA teacher. Riddle left the classroom and she approached Dumbledore's desk.

"I understand what you did back then, and you were right. But you're in a classroom Miss Hortense and you need to follow the rules."

"You only said not to use dark curses professor."

"You need to remember that you are not on a battlefield anymore. You've been here for a year now Miss Hortense, I think it is time for you to accept that."

 _How can you accept that Hemione ?_

 _That you've been stuck for a year._

"May I leave ?" She asked him.

Dumbledore exhaled. "I've heard about your grandmother. I am deeply sorry."

 _She wasn't your grandmother._

"I've also heard that my brother was there with you." Dumbledore finished.

"Are you keeping tabs on him or me ?"

"I am only trying to make sure you're not using him to get to me."

"The world doesn't revolve around you professor." She cut him.

She picked her bag from the floor and went to the door. Hermione didn't let him the time to answer back that she was out of the classroom and heading towards her next lecture.

OoOoOo

11.09.1943 :

On this second Thursday of September, Hermione went to Slughorn's private apartments just after her classes. She knocked twice on the door and heard the loud voice of Horace urging her to get in. After closing the door she sat on the same leather chair she had sat in months priors.

"Would you like a cup of tea ?" He asked her. Hermione nodded a small smile on her lips. Slughorn sat in front of her a couple of minutes later with two steaming cups. He put one in front of her and got himself comfortable in his chair.

"How is your sixth year going so far ?"

"So far so good."

"Jolly good. That is nice to hear." He chuckled. "How are the DADA classes with professor Dumbledore ?"

Hermione sent him a warm smile but cut him in his tracks. "Nice."

"Jolly good. Well, so about our classes. I don't think you need more guidance in potion so I thought about alchemy. What do you think Grace ?"

 _You think this might be interesting._

"I think this is a great idea Professor." Hermione answered.

"Good. Good. I have already talked to our common friend Nicolas Flamel about what you've already learned in Beauxbatons…"

 _Our common friend ?_

"... I also think that we can skip the first lessons." Slughorn finished.

Hermione slightly shook her head to get out of her thoughts and smiled at the large potion master.

"I am sure I'll learn a lot. I always enjoy classes with you, professor." She praised him. "Maybe one day I could be on your shelf. It would be a great honor."

Hermione didn't particularly enjoy praising Slughorn but she knew how he worked. As the words escaped her mouth, she saw something in Slughorn's eyes : pride.

"Come take a look dear." He gave her a sign to follow him towards the said shelf.

 _You're going to be late Hermione._

 _Your first meeting._

Her eyes wandered on the pictures. She saw Isobel Darthmouth, Chudley Canon's Quidditch Captain, then Isaac Keptbell, a famous potion master. Then her gaze fell on something she was not expecting.

"Who is that man ?" She pressed, her finger pointing at the picture.

"Well Grace, don't you recognize him ? This is Atticus Aldritch, your soon to be DADA professor."

 _That's him. That's one of the men you saw at the World Cup talking about the new department._

* * *

11.09.1943 :

The lads and Tom were all gathered on the fifth floor, in the same classroom. He was sat at the end of the table, as usual, Dolohov and Malfoy just next to him. Tom was playing with his ring.

 _She is late._

The lads were talking altogether about nothing in particular when Dolohov felt the need to get this meeting started. "So my father…"

"Not now." Tom cut him.

The lads shot him a questioning glance and all shut their mouths. Tom shot a discreet glance at his watch.

 _She is fucking late._

The door opened in a small creak. Everyone turned their heads toward it and saw Grace stepping in the room.

"You are late." Tom told her as he stood up.

"I know." She answered.

The confusion was written all over the lads' faces. Grace fully entered the room in complete silence.

"Milton, move next to Isodor." Tom ordered the small boy. The latter shyly stood up and left the chair next to Abraxas available. Tom pulled out the chair as an invite for Grace to sit down, which she did. Tom sat back in his own chair. No one talked except for the two since she got here as if they all accepted her presence.

Dolohov, however, didn't look so pleased by this turn of events. He looked at each boy, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched. "No one is going to say a thing ?!" He finally said. "The fuck is she doing here ?"

"Don't even start Antonin." Tom warned him.

"No."

 _Come again ?_

Antonin suddenly stood up and leaned above the table in a menacing way towards Grace. Tom straightened in his chair and put both of his hands flat on the table.

"What is she doing here ? What has she done for you to get here ?" Dolohov kept going.

"Same as you did." Grace answered. "I gave Tom information."

"How can you know something we don't already know about ?"

"Well, have you heard about the creation of a new department Dolohov ? The one Tuft is trying to keep secret for the moment ? The one that has a link with the Department of International Magical Cooperation ? The one our next DADA teacher, Atticus Aldritch, is aware of ?" Grace retorted.

Tom turned his head at this last bit of information towards her.

"You are only here because your father worked at the ministry and could give you information. And what is going on with your father right now ? He just got fired. So the real question here Dolohov, is what are you doing here ?" She finished.

Silence settled for a couple of seconds before Tom talked. "And that is why she is here."

Dolohov turned his head towards him and sat back down.

"What are you talking about Grace ?" Isodor asked.

"During the World Cup, we have learned that on top of doing a cabinet reshuffle, Tuft had decided on creating a new department." Tom answered. "One that is directly linked to your father's job Isodor. That is why we need him to keep his place more than ever." The blond nodded his head in acknowledgment. "Atticus Aldritch ?" He asked Grace.

"I was in Slughorn's private apartment and I saw a picture of him. I recognized him. However, he wasn't the one trying to take Avery's job." She answered him.

Tom faced the entire table and joined his hands. "Grace saw two men talking about that. One was Atticus Aldritch apparently, and we still need to find out who the other one was. I need you to give her all the pictures of the World Cup you have got." Tom ordered them.

"What about my father ?" Isodor inquired, apparently worried.

"I can help, I can try to dig up some dirt on the man." Dolohov started.

"It is a good idea Antonin. However, how are you going to do that without knowing who the man is ?" Tom said in a condescending tone.

As usual, the meeting led to talking about politics, plots, and schemes. As Tom ended the meeting, everyone finally relaxed.

"So, what you thought about the meeting Grace ?" Isodor asked her.

"I wasn't expecting that. I thought it to be more dramatic." She chuckled. "Do you even have a little name ?" Grace mocked.

"No. But we definitely should." Milton intervened.

Tom could see that Grace was joking at first but the lads seemed quite into finding a name.

"What should we call us ?" Edmund wondered. "What about the Green Snakes ?"

"Are you serious ?" Abraxas mocked. "The Slytherin's heirs."

At that, Tom tensed while Grace chuckled. He shot her a glance. The lads kept suggesting names ideas.

"You should be called the Knight of Walpurgis." Grace interrupted them.

 _Shakespear ?_

"I don't like it." Thorus complained. The lads nodded, all agreeing.

"I like it." Tom finally said.

OoOoOo

11.09.1943 :

Everyone had left the room already, except for Tom and Antonin, the former still in his chair smoking a cigarette and the latter leaning against the wall.

"Really Tom ?" Dolohov started. "Does she really have to be here ? I don't like her. I don't trust her."

"Neither does she but you do not see her complaining, do you ?" Tom simple said. "It is better to have her in our ranks than against us."

"I just don't see why she needs to be here. If it is only for the intel, she can simply tell it to you, she doesn't have to attend the meetings."

"Just say it Dolohov."

"What ?"

"Just say what you really think."

"If it's only for a quick shag Tom, you don't have to go that far."

"Dolohov." Tom stared at him, anger rising in his blood. "Remember who you are talking to."

OoOoOo

19.09.1943 :

The common room was quite crowded on this Friday evening, some of the lads were doing homework and others were casually talking on the couch near the chimney. Tom was comfortably reading on the next couch, his feet propped on the coffee table and his right fingers absently playing with his ring.

The loudest voice in the room belonged to a certain Pollux Parkinson, taking almost an entire couch for himself. He had his head on the armrest and the rest of his body on the couch, his feet on Grace's lap.

"What about strippers ?" He seriously asked.

"Strippers ?" She repeated. "Sure Pollux. We can bring strippers to a private school in the middle of Scotland." She smiled, her voice filled with irony.

"You asked me what I wanted for my birthday." He shrugged.

"Why am I the one organising it ? Why isn't it Cole ?" Grace complained.

"Because kiddo, you don't see Cole around, do you ? No. So it's your job."

Tom tried to focus on his book, but he had read the same sentence twice already, his ears only focusing on the conversation between the two friends.

He needed to know how their friendship worked, how Pollux gained her trust.

The common room's door opened and the blond HeadBoy entered.

"Oh mate !" Pollux almost yelled as he saw his best friend. "From the look on your face, I believe it was a good date." He mocked.

Cole approached Grace and Pollux and exhaled. "Move Parkinson." The latter obliged and Woodcroft settle between his two friends. "And shut it." He simply said, unknotting his tie and putting his right arm behind Grace.

Tom needed to know how their friendship worked, how Cole gained her trust.

"Now Cole is here." Grace looked at Pollux. "It's his job right ?"

"What are you on ?" The blond asked as he heard his name.

"This one's birthday." She said lifting her chin towards a grinning Parkinson.

"No. Not again. I've done it for years." Cole shook his head no.

"Fine. You'll have to be a stripper then. Do you look good in a bikini Cole ?" She laughed.

Tom turned his page, noticing he's been staring at the same one for too long. He quickly looked at the three of them and could see a little confusion on the Headboy face. However, the latter joined the joke promptly.

"I look good in everything Grace." Cole winked.

"So Cole, what about the date ?" Pollux casually asked, one brow lifted.

Grace laughed at that.

"Please Grace, don't encourage him. You're both aware it was a HeadBog-HeadGirl meeting."

"Meeting." Pollux mimicked quotation marks as he repeated the word.

Grace let her head fall back on Cole's arm and laughed out loud.

 _She is so carefree._

 _I need her to be this carefree with me._

Woodcroft rolled his eyes and bent towards the coffee table to grab Grace's cup of tea. He drank without asking for her permission and she didn't seem to mind. As he took the first sip, his eyes widened and he turned completely towards Pollux, who was himself taking a sip, trying to hide his smile.

"Don't look at me." Pollux defended himself. "She is the one who wanted to celebrate."

"It's the birthday of someone I used to know." She simply said.

Tom was interested in what she had just said. He remembered vividly the night they spend together playing chess when she confessed forgetting one of her friends' birthday. She had been sad that night, however, she didn't look like that tonight.

"Well, happy birthday." Cole grinned at her and took another sip of what smelled like firewhiskey.

* * *

27.09.1943 :

The morning breeze was freezing, Hermione was muffled in her coat sitting next to the lads. The Quidditch tryouts had just begun and like last year, the lads were taking bets, however this time, Hermione was not taking a part in it.

"Have you had the time to look at the pictures ?" Tom asked her.

"Not yet."

"And when will you have the time ?"

Hermione turned around and looked at him. "Do you really think it is the right time to talk about that ?"

"You are the one who wanted to get in. Now you are in. So get things done."

Hermione pursed her lips and chose to escape this conversation. From afar she saw Pollux grinning at her on his broom. She got up and said to Tom. "Don't worry Riddle, I'll get things done." She heard him exhaled loudly, apparently fed up with the situation, with her, before she left the lads behind and approached the guardrail.

"Watch me !" Pollux said to her.

"I am Pollux and it's not impressive." She shouted.

"Well ..."

Hermione looked on her right and saw Cole approaching then mimicking her position. He turned his head and smiled at her.

"... It is quite impressive…" He continued

"Knowing how much he drank last night ?" She finished his sentence.

Cole turned his head and looked at the try-out in front of them, however, Hermione kept staring at him.

"Yes." He simply said, as if he waited for her to keep talking about the subject.

"Knowing how much he drinks." At this sentence, Cole faced her.

"You've finally noticed then." He declared.

"I think I've known for a while now."

They both stared at one another until Hermione opened her mouth. "He is an alcoholic, right ?"

"Yes."

"And what do we do about it ?"

"Today is his birthday, so we do nothing."

"And tomorrow ?"

Cole pursed his lips. Hermione understood that Cole had tried several things but nothing had worked so far.

"Is he even aware of that ?" Hermione asked.

"He is in complete denial."

"Who else knows ? Cassandre ?"

"Cassandre is one of the reasons he is drinking. His father is so blind by the image of his perfect heir that I am sure he hadn't noticed yet. And his mother is sharing her bottles with him. The first time he got drunk it was with me. We were about thirteen years old, during a posh dinner, we were so bored that we stole a bottle of wine and drank it in his garden. After that, there had always been an occasion to drink, but now he keeps drinking when there isn't." Cole closed his eyes and exhaled.

"Should I say something to him ?"

"Don't." Cole replied quickly, panic in his voice. "You're only going him to rub him the wrong way."

"So, we can only witness him destroying himself ?" Hermione told him, tears in her voice.

"For now, yes."

"And after ?"

"We make sure he doesn't die from alcohol poisoning alone in the streets."

Cole put his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. "He is going to be alright Grace."

"Did you see that ?" They heard Pollux shouting at them.

Hermione nodded her head, a smile on her face not reaching her eyes.

OoOoOo

27.09.1943 :

Everything was ready in the common room. People were chatting over a drink in their hands. The charmed radio was broadcasting wizard music, Hermione was leaning against the table with food and drinks on it. She was wearing a white long-sleeved dress, her hair was falling past her shoulders. She saw Pollux talking to a group of his fellow seventh-year before catching her gaze and excusing himself to join her.

"I can't see any strippers." Pollux grinned.

"Cole is behind you."

He snorted.

"Where is my present kiddo ?"

Hermione smiled and gave him 2 galleons and 3 knuts. Pollux looked at her puzzled.

"Am I supposed to buy my own gift ? It doesn't work that way you know."

"This is your change. You know, from the train ?"

"Oh right. So where is my present ?"

"You are quite demanding tonight."

"You haven't seen him in bed." Cole intervened as he just arrived next to them.

"And you did ?" Hermione joked.

"We've been living in the same dorm for seven years." He replied, disgust evident in his voice.

"That's gross."

The two boys nodded their heads.

"So what is my present ?" Pollux pressed.

Hermione gave him a small package and watched him as he tore the wrapping paper. He took out a book and read out loud the title : " _How to stay silent so others keep believing that you are smart ?_ ".

Pollux and Cole burst out laughing. "Oh, I love you kiddo."

Two seventh-years called out Cole and Pollux to take some shots. They both invited her to join but she told them she wanted to spend some time with some of the lads. They smiled at each other before she left to join Thorus. On her way towards the boy, she bumped into someone's back.

"I am sorry." She excused herself. The person turned around.

"Grace." Tom smirked and sized her at the same time. "You look lovely tonight."

 _What ?_

Hermione didn't know how to answer that and apparently, Tom was enjoying watching her so confused and his smirk grew even larger.

"Well, enjoy the party." He finally said before leaving.

 _The fuck was that ?_

Hermione stood alone for half a second before joining the conversation between Thorus, Isodor, Edmund and Belone.

"Congratulations Belone on your engagement." Thorus smiled.

"He knows who you are going to marry, but I do not ?" Hermione faked being hurt.

"I hope you'll soon meet Benedict, Grace I am sure you'll love him." Her friend gently smiled at her.

"He is Galatis' cousin." Isodor whispered to Hermione.

 _She is the mother of the Carrow's twins._

 _Nice._

"Oh look Thorus !" Edmund intervened, pointing his finger towards a fifth-year girl. "This girl is your soulmate. I met her at the Quidditch World Cup, and I swear she is made for you."

The entire group turned towards where Edmund was pointing out. The said girl had long blond hair, an angelic face and was talking to some of her friends. Hermione then looked at Thorus and saw him uneasy.

"You know I am betrothed. " Nott mumbled.

"Let's change the subject." Isodor quickly said.

The party was going smoothly, people were all enjoying themselves. Belone was dancing with Galbanda near the chimney, both of them smiling and clearly having fun. On the far right, Pollux and Cole were laughing loudly with their friends, all of them having a drink in their hands. The lads, well some of them, were gathered next to the door, chatting enthusiastically with some fifth-year girls.

Hermione went to the table and poured herself a drink when she noticed the two in a corner of the common room. She squinted her eyes to make sure those two boys were, in fact, Tom Riddle and Antonin Dolohov. She quickly looked around her to see if other people had noticed the two talking together. She took her glass and discreetly approached.

"What are you playing at ?" Antonin whispered at Tom.

"I do not know what you are referencing to." The prefect lied.

"Lovely ?"

 _They're definitely talking about you._

"That was convincing, wasn't it ?" Tom snorted.

"So I was right, you're playing with her."

"Of course I am. Don't be daft. I do not have the time nor the envy to befriend her. So what is the easiest way to gain her trust but to seduce her ?"

Dolohov silently laughed at that and clinked their glasses together.

"But why do you need to gain her trust ?"

"Because I do actually need her. She has been useful so far. And I am sure she will be useful again."

 _He is apparently playing you._

 _Two can play this game._

 _And if you recall correctly, you won last time._

Hermione took her drink in one sip and went back to where the bottles of alcohol were lying. She repeated the conversation she had just heard in her head. A smile spread across her lips. Tom didn't know that she knew. Once again, she was one step ahead.

"Drowning yourself in alcohol ?" She heard his voice next to her, on her right.

She made the smile disappear and faced him. He was wearing a white bottom-up tucked into dark trousers. He had both of his sleeves rolled up to his elbow. His hair, as usual, was perfectly styled and contrasting with his pale, flawless skin.

"Your presence just gave me a reason to." She joked. He laughed.

 _Fake laughed._

"I heard a strange thing." He began and took a sip of his drink. "Pollux spent the last week of August partying in his beach house."

"How is that strange ? We are talking about Pollux."

"What is strange Grace, is that you said he stayed with you in France after your grandmother's death."

Hermione laughed at that. "Once again Tom, you misunderstood. I've never said that. Dolohov did. And I just didn't correct him. »

Tom furrowed his brows.

"And now you are wondering who I stayed with." She had a small smile on her lips. "But where is the fun in telling you ? Isn't Abraxas still keeping tabs on me ? Maybe he knows."

"Are we still playing a game ?" Tom smirked, clearly enjoying their banter.

"I don't know Tom. Are we ?" Hermione said while walking away, her head turned towards him.

Tom took the bait and followed her. They both went by Pollux and Cole's side.

"Remind me to thank Abe for the alcohol." Pollux told her.

"Will do."

"Abe ?" Tom repeated the bartender's nickname.

"You don't know Abe ? He is an institution." Cole replied.

"Who is he ?" Tom kept pushing.

Before anyone could answer his question, someone went by their small group with a tray filled with shots. Pollux stole it and invited them to take a shot each.

"Happy birthday git." Cole rose his glass.

"Happy birthday prat." Hermione followed.

Tom only nodded.

They took the shot.

OoOoOo

27.09.1943 :

Grace had lost track of time and Pollux. She had looked around but hadn't seen him anywhere for quite some time now. She followed her instinct and went up to his dorm. She gently knocked on the door and entered. The room was dark and only the moonlight was enlightening the room. She found him, sitting on one of the beds, his head in his hands.

"Hey." She whispered.

Pollux raised his head. At the sight, her heart broke a little. His eyes were red and puffy, and his cheeks still wet from tears. She sat next to him on the bed.

"It's your birthday, you shouldn't be crying." She gently told him.

"I am not crying." He lied, his voice still thick.

"Well, you shouldn't be staying alone in your room then."

"I am not alone." Pollux sent her a small smile.

Hermione just took his hand and let the silence fall back around them. It was not an uncomfortable silence. They stayed like that for a dozen minutes.

"He didn't come." Pollux finally broke the silence.

Hermione felt she shouldn't answer, so she let him continue.

"Cassandre. He didn't come." He kept going. "I know it shouldn't be a surprise, but still. I keep wishing one day he will stop hating me for who I am, for what I am. I believe one of the reasons he didn't show up was because of a fucking watch. I don't even want it, it is not even a pretty watch. It is just a tradition. The heir has this watch. Been that way for generations. I am not saying I don't want to be the heir, I just want him to understand that it was not a choice. Merlin, I am pathetic."

He let his head drop back into his hands.

"You're not pathetic Pollux. You're just human. He is your brother, he is your family. You want him by your side, it is normal."

"Fuck, I am the worst. Here I am complaining about my family when you…" He couldn't finish his sentence.

"As I said, you're just human." She gently squeezed his hand. "I was planning on giving you another gift tomorrow when you'll be hungover and in front of everyone. But I think you'll enjoy it more now. I hadn't had the time to wrap it properly."

She put her left hand in her pocket and took out a small, bright blue, muggle watch. She opened his hand and put it in his palm. The watch was clearly designed for a child, the bracelet was in leather but the dial was white with warplanes drawn on it. Pollux let out a wet laugh.

"Because you're still a fucking child." She explained in a small voice.

Pollux took her in his arms, his head tucked in her neck, both laughing and crying at the same time. Hermione couldn't hold him any tighter.

* * *

 **Authors' Notes :**

Hi guys,

So we took a little bit more time than what we anticipated with this chapter, midterms and everything...

We also realized that today is our birthday : we've been writing DDM for a year now !

We hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Thanks so much for all of your reviews

Lots of love,

-DDM's Managers


	16. AFTER HOURS

**"Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

 **CHAPTER SIXTEEN : AFTER HOURS**

* * *

 _Song : After Hours by The Weeknd_

10.11.1943 :

 _ **MAGICOLE SURVIVAL**_

 _ **SURVIVAL BOARD GAME**_

 _ **1943 EDITION**_

 _ **BY POLLUX PARKINSON**_

 _ **RULES**_

 _ **THE GAME IN BRIEF :**_

 _ **MAGICOLE SURVIVAL is the game of mental endurance, the one(s) finding the golden item becoming the eventual winner(s).**_

 _ **Starting from the "GO" space (Slytherin Common Room), join the team that has been assigned to you. For an optimal game, no more than five players per team.**_

 _ **Each team will be given an enchanted parchment, which allows the communication between the teams and the Game Master (myself, Pollux Parkinson). Each group will have to follow the instructions given on the parchment and move from one room to another according to what had been ordered by the Game Master.**_

 _ **Each player will be given, in the first room, 2 Cole's Cards. These cards can be used at any point in the game (for more information, see Cole' Cards Section below).**_

 _ **Main Quest :**_

 _ **In order to find the golden item, each team will have to participate in every task.**_

 _ **When you "land" on a room, an enigma or challenge will need to be completed to go to the next.**_

 _ **The golden item will be found in the last room.**_

 _ **Side Quest :**_

 _ **Each player/team will be given the opportunity to participate in a side quest. The side quest is not mandatory to win - but I've worked hard on it guys, so please try it -.**_

 _ **EQUIPMENT**_

 _ **1 parchment per team**_

 _ **1 quill**_

 _ **2 Cole's Card per player**_

 _ **Any other object is FORBIDDEN**_

 _ **SET UP**_

 _ **1\. Players gather in the "GO" Space (Slytherin Common room).**_

 _ **2\. Randomly assign each player to a team.**_

 _ **3\. Each team goes to the first room, which will be directly given to them in the "GO" Space.**_

 _ **4\. Each player draws their 2 Cole's Cards**_

 _ **COLE'S CARDS**_

 _ **Pumpkin Pastries : Useless**_

 _ **Draught of the living death : Allows you to stop one player from participating in a challenge.**_

 _ **Sugar Quills : Useless**_

 _ **Revelio : Allows you to see what you can't see.**_

 _ **Shield : Allows you to protect yourself from anything.**_

 _ **Wand : Allows you to get rid of what you want**_

 _ **In order to activate any card, you'll need to put it on what you want to use the card for and simply say "habilito".**_

 _ **PLAYING THE GAME :**_

 _ **The game unfolds in 10 steps.**_

 _ **If you get caught during the game, you can't tell, don't be a snitch.**_

 _ **SIDE QUEST :**_

 _ **At some step in the game, you will be offered the opportunity to go on a side quest. It is not mandatory to complete them to win the game. If you successfully complete the side quest, you will earn a clue to find the golden item. You can either go alone or with a player in your team.**_

 _ **PASSING "GO" :**_

 _ **If any player decides to quit playing, you will only have to go to the "GO" Space.**_

 _ **THE MASTER OF THE GAME CAN DO WHATEVER THE FUCK HE WANTS.**_

 **On the tenth of November 1943, something happened at Hogwarts.**

Cole Woodcroft's birthday had always been a big deal at Hogwarts and especially in the Slytherin house. Each year, a huge party took place in the dungeons, in their common room. This year, however, was special. Firstly, Cole Woodcroft turned seventeen and was officially an adult. Secondly, it was his last birthday at Hogwarts.

During breakfast, each friend of Cole Woodcroft had received, along with their morning post, an invite to play a game. The invite was not usual, it had a copy of the rules for Pollux's game.

Pollux Parkinson had always organised Cole Woodcroft's birthday at Hogwarts. Each year, he set up a huge party in the dungeons, in their common room. This year, however, was special. And for the occasion, Pollux Parkinson went all the way.

Hermione and Cole were casually sitting on one of the couches, both with drinks in their hands and talking enthusiastically. The common room was packed as every student in there was waiting for the game to start. Hermione almost spilled her drink when Pollux sat between Cole and her.

"Pollux !" She complained while scooching to the right in order to let the older boy more room on the couch.

"How are my two favourite people in the world doing this fine night ?" Parkinson grinned. He put a chocolate frog out of his pocket and took a huge bite.

"Give me some." Cole ordered his friend with a smile.

"Fuck off." The other mumbled, his mouth full.

The two boys began bickering on the couch, Cole trying to get a hold of the sweet and Pollux almost shoving the frog in Hermione's face to keep it away from his best friend.

"It's my birthday you moron." Cole laughed. Pollux stopped moving and simply looked at him. He slightly cocked his head to the side, as if he was thinking about what he was about to do next, before taking another chocolate frog out of his pocket. Pollux dropped off the sweet in Cole's waiting hand and flipped him off.

The wait for the game became slightly too long for the other students in the room. They became calling Pollux's name and asking for direction on the game.

"Well, that's my cue folks." Pollux stood up and jumped on the first table he saw. "Attention everyone ! As everyone knows, today is my best mate's birthday." He faced his audience and continued "For this occasion, I decided to do something a little bit different. Let's play a little game, shall we ?"

Hermione and Cole shared a look, before getting up themselves and joining the rest of the students.

The common room was fully packed, around eighty students were gathered in front of him, coming from all houses except Gryffindor.

"I believe you all know the game _Magical Survival_. Well tonight, we are all going to play _Magi-Cole Survival_." Pollux emphasized the "cole" and the crowd laughed at the pun.

"It is a child game !" Someone intervened.

"Well, you haven't seen my version yet." Pollux smirked. "Come on, who wants to play ?"

More than half of the room clapped, showing their enthusiasm.

"Good." Parkinson smiled. "Those who don't want to play, there is alcohol at the back of the room, please enjoy yourselves until the game is over. For those who like a little game, I hope you have well read the rules I sent you this morning."

For once in his life, Pollux Parkinson had been organised. He had chosen a first-year kid with good handwriting, paid him to write the rules as he was dictating them, then duplicated this parchment exactly 81 times. Pollux had been full of pride this morning at breakfast as he saw the delighted faces of his fellow students as they read them.

Hermione felt a gaze on her. She discreetly turned her head to the right to find Tom by her side.

"Want to be on my team ?" He smirked.

"Why wouldn't you be on mine ?" She smiled, taking a sip from her drink.

"Now, it is time for me to get you into teams. I'll do it randomly, so don't start any strategies yet." Pollux smirked. "Any questions ?"

No one answered.

"Let's do this then."

* * *

TEAM 7

HERMIONE - SILAS - CASSANDRE - BELONE - EDGARD

After making the teams, Pollux had told them that each group had to go to a specific room in the dungeons. As the team seven entered their room, they saw a deck of cards waiting for them on the professor's desk. The rules said that to begin properly, each member of a group had to get two cards from this specific deck.

"I hope you understood all the rules, because I haven't." Edgard snorted.

"Haven't you played Magical Survival when you were little ?" Belone asked him.

"Yes, maybe once or twice."

"It's basically the same Edgard. But knowing Pollux, it's gonna get fucked up." Cassandre smirked. He walked past Belone and shot her an icy glance. "And we already have an advantage."

The other four looked at him, a puzzled look on their face.

"We don't have any Hufflepuff on our team." The youngest Parkinson finished.

"Let's pick the cards then." Hermione approached the desk and took the cards in her hands. Each member of the team took two.

Hermione looked at the bits of paper in her hands : a _Wand_ and a _Revelio_. As she looked at what was written on her _Wand_ card, she couldn't quite understand what it meant. She read it several times, yet the " _allows you to get rid of what you want_ " still didn't make sense.

She put them in her purse and waited for the first clue to appear on the parchment.

"Look," Silas said showing the parchment with his right hand. The five of them approached the document in Belone's hand. It read : " **Task 1 : Team n°7, go to the chams class**."

"Well, this is quite forward. Isn't it supposed to be an enigma ?" Edgard noticed.

"Pollux created this version of the game. It's going to be stupid anyway." Cassandre said.

"Let's get to the library, then."

* * *

TEAM 5

TOM - ANTONIN - WALBURGA - LISBETH - PAUL

"Why do we have such a shitty team ?" Dolohov whispered to him. Tom laughed and stared at Lisbeth and Paul, the two Hufflepuffs.

"Please tell me we're going to try to lose them along the way." Walburga joined. "I can't stand Paul fucking Diggory."

"Who does ?" Tom smirked.

Tom looked at his cards, a _Shield_ and a _Pumpkin Pastry_ , while his team was going towards the next step after looking at their clue : " **Task 1 : Team n°5, go to the runes' classroom**."

Dolohov pushed the runes' door open and the five of them stepped inside. Another team was already in the middle of the latter, next to a large wooden table. Cole, Isodor, Cygnus, Eileen, and Thorus all turned around and looked at the newcomers.

"What are we supposed to do ? Fight ? Resolve an enigma ?" Paul Diggory spoke up, eager to do something.

"No." Cole simply answered. "Look at your parchment. By going into the right room, we apparently completed the first task."

"Hasn't Pollux told us he spent months creating this game ?" Isodor whispered.

Tom absently played with his ring as he paced around the room, waiting for a message from Pollux. He could hear in the background Paul Diggory talking to Antonin and the silence from his friend. Cole approached him and sat on the desk next to him.

"Enjoying your birthday Woodcroft ?" Tom asked, not looking at him. "I noticed that every prefect on duty tonight is currently playing the game. How convenient."

Cole chuckled at that. "It is convenient."

"What about Rusard ?" Tom wondered about what they did to the care-taker.

"You'd rather not know." The birthday-boy smirked. They stood in silence for a couple of seconds before the Headboy started talking again. "What did you do with them ?"

"With what ?" Tom genuinely asked.

"The tickets. For the World Cup."

"Well, I did what you advised me to. I used them wisely."

The two Slytherin smirked.

They were all waiting for a good ten minutes before Thorus spoke up what everyone was thinking. "Shouldn't we do something ?"

Tom looked around the room. He found it weird that Pollux had not contacted them sooner. He left Cole and approached the fireplace, started looking behind books and other small items. The others started doing the same.

"I recognize this table." Eileen noticed as she approached the furniture. "We have the same in the girls' dorm. Look there is the Slytherin's crest. It doesn't belong here. Pollux must have placed it here on purpose."

"Let's look underneath the table, maybe he put something there."

Everyone, except Tom and Doholov, ducked and looked.

"Accio clue." Dolohov cast. No results.

"There is nothing underneath either." Eileen said.

"Maybe it's simply on it." Cole whispered. The Headboy got closer to the table. It was a simple wooden table, nothing looking wrong with it. He took out one of his two cards and awkwardly put it on the table. Tom expected something to happen after Cole had put his _Revelio_ on it.

"Habilito." The Headboy said. As a consequence, a bright light illuminated the table but quickly faded as the card disappeared.

Two boxes appeared. One with the number 5 and the other one with the number 2.

"Good job Cole !" Paul Diggory grinned. Tom tried not to roll his eyes. Tried. "So I guess we have to open the box to get the next clue."

"Good job Paul !" Dolohov mocked him as Tom snickered not far behind.

Walburga, already fed up with the game, suddenly rose from the seat she was currently longing in.

"The parchment !" She said. The piece of paper in her right hand, previously blank, was now covered in Pollux's handwriting. Team number 5 gathered and Tom snatched it from her hands.

" **Task 2 : I speak without a mouth, and hear without ears. I have no body but I come alive with the wind. What am I ? Name me and you will get five tokens.** "

"I've told you there would be an enigma !" Paul laughed. Tom became a little bit more fed up every time he opened his mouth. He inhaled and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. Tom turned his head and looked at Cole. They exchanged a knowing glance.

"Do you have a riddle too ?" The HeadBoy asked him. Tom simply nodded.

"Do we have the same one ?" Cygnus wondered out loud.

Each Slytherin looked tense at that. They all knew no one would want to speak first, in case the other team would screw them over. But of course, Tom had two Hufflepuffs in his team and one of those Hufflepuff being Paul fucking Diggory.

"I speak-" As Paul let out the first words of the enigma, Walburga put her hand on his mouth.

"What is wrong with you ?" She yelled at him. "You can't give away our enigma ! Don't ever open your mouth again during this game, you twat."

Cole's team snickered and the latter took a step towards Tom. "At least now we know we don't have the same."

"So, any idea ?" Lisbeth asked the team. "What about the wind ? No, it's in the clue."

"I feel like every riddle has something to do with reflection. What about that ?" Tom suggested.

"No, I don't think so." Walburga intervened. She stopped for a while to re-read the enigma in her head. "Breeze ? No it doesn't speak. _Oh_. I've got it. _Echo_. As we know an echo is a reflection of sound. It speaks but has no mouth, it bounces back." She took back the parchment and started writing the answer on it. As soon as she finished, Pollux wrote back.

" **Well done Team 5. Go pick up your tokens and the next clue** "

Dolohov took the box in his hands and opened the top. At the bottom of it, laid the 5 tokens along with a white bean. Tom snickered.

"That's the clue ?" Antonin gathered the bean in his right hand.

"Of course it is the clue." Tom smirked. "The worst is that Parkinson thinks this is funny."

The four other students looked at Tom, waiting for him to explain what the bean meant.

"Let's go to the history classroom." The prefect simply said.

* * *

TEAM 7

HERMIONE - SILAS - CASSANDRE - BELONE - EDGARD

They decided on leaving the room with the box after resolving the enigma. They didn't want the other team to look at their next clue. Edgard opened it and they all took back their token.

"What's that ?" Hermione asked as she grabbed the piece of paper that was left. She could read "Pollux Haurus Parkison, 3rd Year, Detention Slip." She also recognized Merrythought's handwriting.

"Detention ?" Cassandre rhetorically asked. "Why am I not surprised ?"

"What's the reason ?" Edgard smirked.

"Made one of his fellow Slyterin's skirts catch fire at his failed attempt of making it disappear." Hermione laughed along with the others.

"Let's try to focus here." Silas scolded them. "Where do we go for detention ?"

"Trophy room." Edgard and Belone answered at once.

"Let's go then."

As they descended the two stories to reach the Trophy Room, Hermione walked by Silas' side.

"I didn't know you were friends with Cole." She told him.

"Our fathers both work at the ministry. We've been dragged to the same boring parties, you have to befriend someone to stay sane." He chuckled.

"You never actually told me what your father does at the ministry."

"He works under Pilliwickle."

"The new Head of Law Enforcement ? The one who took Doholov Senior's job ?"

"Yes… But don't get me started on those political schemes."

"Why's that ?" Hermione chuckled. "Haven't you chosen a side yet ?"

"Really ? A side ?"

"Of course a side Silas. There are always at least two. Which side are you on ? Or would you rather keep it for yourself ?"

"Which side are you on Grace ?"

"The winning side."

At that, Silas Burnstein smirked. Belone, a few steps in front of them, opened the Trophy Room's door. In the middle of it, stood a large table with 26 green cups in a pyramidal position, a locked box on it and ten tokens.

"That's my boy !" Edgard said as he understood what all of this meant. The others smiled.

In the middle of the table laid a single white parchment.

" **Welcome to the third task. Butter-beer Pong. Now that you've answered the only theoretical question of the game, let's get you all a little wasted, shall we ?**

 **The game is simple :**

 **Each team will place five tokens in their cups. Then, you know the rules. You catch one snitch, you aim for a cup, if this cup has a token, you win it.**

 **However, once a player had won his, he can't play anymore : he earned his place on the next task.**

 **The snitches will be released once the ten tokens have been placed in the cups.**

 **Beware, this is not only butter-beer. It's my own little cocktail."**

"Let's start." Cassandre said.

"Yes, they will never know where we placed them." Belone smiled.

"But, this is not fair." Silas intervened.

Belone turned towards him and smirked. "Come on _babe_ , you're with Slytherins tonight."

The Ravenclaw only nodded, took his token and placed it in the first cup. As Cassandre put his, the door opened and the opposite team entered.

Orion, Edmund, Elias Goyle, Warrington Peters and Gemma Montague faced them.

"Butter-Beer Pong !" Edmund shouted, his voice filled with happiness.

"Let's finally drink." Orion laughed.

Team number 6 read the rules.

"So let's place them, then." Elias proposed. A silence from Hermione's team followed his sentence. Gemma Montague cocked her head and closed her eyes.

"They've already placed the tokens." She exhaled.

"That's not fair !" Warrington groaned.

"Oh come on Peters, you would have done the same." Edgard replied.

The opposite team nodded as they were all Slytherin. When the last one, Edmund, placed his token in the cup, the two boxes opened and a dozen of snitches escaped.

Before the task even began, Edgard felt like using one of his Cole's cards. Hermione wondered if he had chosen Gemma Montague randomly or if he had a reason behind. The truth was that Lestrange took out his Draught of the living death card, put it on Gemma's chest and said the required _habilito_. A small light escaped the piece of cardboard. Gemma flipped Lestrange off as she was now incapable of participating.

"You twat ! I need to participate otherwise I'm out." She became shouting at him.

"Guess you're out then." The other boy grinned.

After Gemma had stopped pouting, the atmosphere radically changed, it became light. They were all having fun, drinking, trash-talking the other team, and drinking. Orion Black was the first to win his token and the entire room cheered for him.

"It is not because you used to sleep with Cole, that his best friend is going to give you a free pass on this one Gemma." Edgard smirked.

Hermione furrowed her brows at this new information and leaned towards Belone to whisper in her ear "They used to be a thing ?"

"A thing ?" Belone repeated. "Oh no Grace, they dated. For a long time. They broke up just before you arrived. I would have sworn that Cole had told you that."

Hermione smiled at her friend and caught a snitch to play.

Roughly half an hour later, everyone had won their token. Hermione had struggled, not being able to aim properly, but in the end she succeeded. The ten students were slightly feeling the effect of alcohol in their system. As both of their parchments filled with Pollux's handwriting, they all clapped.

" **Well done to everyone who got their token. The others you suck, and you're out. Please join us in the Common Room.**

 **For the winners, let's continue the game. Task four.** "

That was the only thing written down. The two teams looked at each other, wondering if they would get further information but all the snitches stopped moving altogether. Eyes were fixed on them, then one particularly shiny, began moving again. They all grinned.

* * *

ALL TEAMS

"It was our chance to get rid of Paul." Dolohov complained to Tom while they walked towards the fourth task on the Quidditch pitch. "Of course, he had to get it in the cup on his first try."

Tom couldn't agree more with his fellow Slytherin, Paul Diggory was just unlikable.

The field's grass was damp from the humidity. Tom internally cursed as he walked towards where at least four teams were gathered in the middle of the pitch. He couldn't stand getting his belongings dirty and by the look of his shoes, they were probably good to be tossed away.

From afar he saw Abraxas, Milton, Thorus and Isodor talking. He approached them with Dolohov by his side.

"Milton ?" Dolohov said in surprise. "I would have thought you to be already out." Isodor snickered at that.

"What are we waiting for ?" Tom asked.

"Apparently for the last teams to arrive. Some are already out from what I've heard." Abraxas answered.

"What about Grace's ?"

"Her team resolved the enigma. I was in the same room." Milton spoke up.

They heard two boys shouting. The lads turned around and saw Edgard his left arm around Edmund's shoulders, both of them grinning ear to ear. Not far, Grace was talking to a Ravenclaw. He expected her to join them, but she only smiled at his friend and joined Cole.

He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, she was carefreely laughing with the birthday boy and his friends.

"Excuse me !"

The students gathered on the field all looked at where the voice came from. Pollux Parkinson was proudly standing, a few meters above them, on the bleachers.

"Welcome back ! I hope you're all tipsy and enjoying the game so far." He shouted then looked at Cole, a little smile on his lips. The crowd cheered. "You can see that you're not as much as when you started. Two teams have already left the game, and several players didn't succeed in the last challenge. The pressure is on."

Pollux rose his arms in the air, in a T-formation, and kept going. "Welcome to the Quidditch Pitch you fuckers. The fourth task is a special one. I would like to thank Prof. Banner, our wonderful teacher of Care of Magical Creatures and Mrs. Salisbury, our favourite Head of Quidditch here at Hogwarts. They both gave me incredible assistance in order to organise this task."

The students all clapped their hands.

"Grace !" Edgard yelled. She turned around and saw him gesturing for her to come back. She put a hand on Cole's shoulder, told him something, and went by their sides.

"Having fun Hortense ?" Tom smiled playfully. He could see that she had drunk, her eyes were a little glassy and she had an easy smile on her pink lips. She gently lowered her head, as if she was embarrassed by his question, then met his gaze. Her cheeks were slightly flushed.

"The best." She said.

"Attention ! Yes Grace, your attention." Pollux reprimanded her. She rose her hands, flipped him off and Pollux started explaining the task.

"Tonight, in this field, there are eight nifflers. Each one has a token. You only need to get the token back."

"Too easy !" Cole said to his friend.

"Oh yes that's what you think. However, no spell will work. You need to catch them by hand. Furthermore, you can't take the token of any niffler. You need to find yours. They have a little necklace with your team's number on it. Good luck."

The lads and Grace stood there, not really knowing how to start this.

"Team 7 !" Edgard yelled to gather his team.

"What's up with you Lestrange ?" Grace mocked. "You weren't that into the game at first."

"Maybe not, but now, I want to win. We have to win."

Grace nodded her head as she laughed.

"Tom, if you mind, we're having a team meeting here." Edgard told Tom when Silas finally joined the other four members.

Tom shrugged and left to join his.

"I spotted one !" Lisbeth smiled. A small little beast ran past them. Lisbeth, Walburga and Paul began following it while Dolohov and Tom watched them.

"Aren't you going after it ?" Antonin asked him.

"Me ? Chasing after a niffler ?" Tom simply answered as Dolohov rolled his eyes and went away.

He looked around him, saw most of the players running around, sometimes screaming that they got the wrong one. Tom couldn't care less, he knew his team would find it so he went towards the bleachers. He leaned against the guardrail where he could see Pollux, on the other side of the bleachers, a drink in his hand and a cigarette on his lips. Tom lit one of his own.

"Grace ? Stop flirting with the other team !" Pollux shouted.

At the name, Tom turned his head to the right and saw her, a few meters away, on the pitch, Cole's arm around her shoulders and her head falling backward from laughter.

"Fuck off Pollux." Cole answered.

Tom took a drag on his cigarette and cocked his head to the left. It was obvious to Tom, it wasn't flirting. Grace was playing him, as she played everyone around her. She manipulated people, that was what she was really good at. While Tom kept looking at them, only one question came in his mind : Why would Grace manipulate Cole for ?

"Riddle ! You're not playing." Pollux yelled. Tom's head snapped up and he shot a wicked grin at the seventh-year.

"I subcontract."

Pollux only huffed at that and went to join the others on the pitch. Tom turned his head back to where the two friends were laughing a couple of minutes prior. They weren't there anymore.

"Looking for me ?" He heard from beside him. He didn't have to turn around to recognize Grace's voice and the evident smirk she must have bared on her face

"Not playing ?" Tom asked.

Grace only scoffed at that. She casually leaned next to him.

"What about a bet ?" He continued. "On the winning team."

"Oh Tom, don't make me think you still believe a team will win this game." She smirked. Tom couldn't help but smirk back.

"Which card did you get ?"

"I'm not going to tell you that Tom."

"Come on Grace, I thought we did not have any secrets for one another anymore."

Grace laughed and snatched his cigarette. She brought it to her lips and slowly inhaled. His eyes were stuck on her. Tom felt something passing by his legs. He looked down and saw a little niffler running away. As he rose his eyes towards the entrance of the bleachers he saw Abraxas Malfoy running after it. He unconsciously put his right hand on Grace's lower back and delicately pushed in order for her to get out of the way.

"Oy ! Tom" He heard Dolohov underneath, on the field. "I got it."

The sixth-year prefect withdrew his hand and looked down at his friend.

"You ?" Tom emphasised.

Dolohov looked at him and crossed his arms. "Well, Paul fucking Diggory got it. But it was a team effort."

"Do not worry. He will soon be gone."

Next to him, Grace looked at him. "Pardon ?" She asked him.

"If you were in my shoes, you would try to get rid of him too."

"Actually I wouldn't. I specifically asked Pollux to put him on your team." She slightly rose her voice.

"Why would you do that ?" Tom was not fully understanding what Grace meant.

"I did that because his father is in the new government as Head of Magical Transport. I did that because I thought you would spend the night trying to get him to talk about his father's job. I did that because that's why I am here, trying to find information, but I can't be the only one doing the job."

"Well, you should have told me then." He snapped. "I cannot read your mind Grace."

 _Not yet._

Grace froze. Tom watched her expression morph into something he had not expected, a smirk. He didn't say more, waiting for her to bark back but she didn't. She simply looked at him. The sound of a whistle broke the silence and they both turned towards Pollux.

"Time's up." Parkinson smiled. "Please gather."

Tom and Grace didn't move, their eyes were still locked on each other. Tom, towering over her, was waiting for her to make the first move to leave.

"Grace !" Edgard shouted from underneath. She slightly turned her head and looked at him. "Well done, good team effort. Nice of you to stand there and do nothing." He spat, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "We fucking lost."

"It's a game Edgard." Grace rolled her eyes.

"I don't give a fuck. I win."

"Apparently not today."

Edgard shut his mouth at the snarky remark then turned around and stormed off.

"Since when do you not care about losing ?" Tom wondered out loud.

"Who said I lost ?" On this, she took out the token with the number 7 written on it out of her inside pocket. She held it between her forefinger and her middle finger, a winning grin illuminating her entire face. Tom's brows furrowed, he couldn't understand how she got one.

"How ? You didn't play."

Grace only smiled, almost as if she was waiting for him to find out by himself. He thought about it, he remembered her talking to her team as the task began, then laughing with Cole and finally coming to join him.

"Cole." He answered his own question. "He gave it to you."

 _Oh. That is why._

Tom finally understood why Grace was flirting with Cole earlier.

"I find it quite enjoyable having someone do the job for me." She laughed.

"That is not your way of doing things."

"You're right. It's yours."

Tom nodded, a small smile on his lips, almost invisible. He pointed to the stairs with his right hand. "Shall we ?"

They arrived on the pitch and joined their own team. He could see from the corner of his eyes, Grace giving the token to Edgard and the huge grin growing on the latter's face.

"Please raise your tokens," Pollux asked. One of the teams didn't. "Well, team n°4, please join the common room." They obeyed.

Pollux approached the remaining teams and loudly clapped his hands. He had a wicked grin and a mischievous look in his eyes. "Well done." He simply said.

"What's the next clue ?" Someone from the crowd asked the game master.

"You see," Pollux was walking among the students. "I thought the first tasks would be much harder for you but it seems like you are really good players." He made a dramatic pause. "How about we change the rules a little ?"

Tom watched as the faces of the players went from normal to thrilled.

"I think you are too many. We should change that. You should change that. As you all know, in the original version of the game Magical Survival, only the entire team can be eliminated. However, in _Magicole Survival_ , I do whatever I want, and I think it's funnier if you get to get rid of one of your players. So, make your choice. The next clue will appear once you're one down." On that, Pollux walked away, leaving behind the players on the pitch.

Tom found Grace's gaze and they only smirked.

"Tom !" Dolohov hissed. "It's our chance to get rid of Paul."

"No." Tom firmly replied.

"What ? Bu-"

"I said no Dolohov. We'll talk about it later." He cut him.

He then turned around and faced his team. Before anyone could speak Paul Diggory opened his mouth and started the longest monologue Tom had ever heard. He talked about democracy, team spirit and group dynamics. Tom tried to keep his hand from moving from their own accord and locking themselves around the Hufflepuff's neck. He only put them in tight fists and focused on keeping his breathing steady.

"Shut up." Walburga almost yelled. "You want democracy ? I'm voting against you. Who else ?" She looked at the team, looking for some kind of support. "Really ? No one ? Antonin ? Tom ?" Her eyes widened at the silence that followed. The Black finally turned herself towards Tom, expecting him to say something. "Fine." She finally concluded. "You know what, I don't need democracy." Walburga took out one of her Cole's cards. She showed it to the team and they all saw the word Wand written on it. As Black went to put it on Paul's chest, Tom stopped her in her tracks when he put out his own _Shield_ card.

"Habilito." Tom snarled.

At this moment Tom had chosen to save Paul Diggory by using one of the most important cards in the entire game. He internally hoped Grace was right, for her own sake.

Walburga's face immediately changed as she saw Tom's move. "Fuck you." She spat. "I'm out."

She shoved the parchment in Tom's chest. He felt the piece of paper heating against his torso. He looked at it.

* * *

TEAM 7

HERMIONE - SILAS - CASSANDRE - (BELONE) - EDGARD

Hermione asked everyone to vote for the one person they wanted out. She only needed Silas to stay and she knew she could count on Cassandre to help her to that. He hated Belone. She had always been against Cassandre and Walburga and he was entirely certain that Mcnair had, at some point, talked Walburga out of this relationship. So Hermione knew Cassandre would vote against her.

Hermione leaned towards Silas and whispered in his ear "follow my lead." He turned his head and looked at her puzzled. She only nodded and took a step forward.

"Let's vote, shall we ?" She spoke up. "Who votes against me ?" No one said a word. "Against Silas ?" Belone and Edgard rose their hands. "Two against Silas. Cassandre ? No one. Edgard ? No one. Belone ?" Cassandre rose his hand and Hermione followed. Silas still looked at Hermione and when she slightly nodded her head, he also voted against the Slytherin. "Belone, you're out."

"What ?" The other girl spat.

"Democracy." Cassandre smirked.

"What the fuck ? We should stay among Slytherin." Belone approached Hermione. "Really Grace ? Did you just choose a Ravenclaw over me ? What is wrong with you ?"

"It's just a game Belone." Hermione simply answered.

Mcnair furrowed her brows and pushed past her to get back to the castle. The other four members stayed in silence before Silas warned the other that a clue just appeared on the parchment.

" **I only appear when it's pitch Black."**

Cassandre only laughed at that. "It's so easy."

"Do tell us."

"The astronomy tower. Stars only appear when it's dark outside. And everyone knows that the Black Family members are all named after stars."

Hermione smiled at him. From afar, she saw Walburga storming off away from her group. Tom had listened to her, he had kept Paul Diggory.

"Let's go then." Edgard began trotting toward the castle.

As they arrived on the fifth floor, Silas gently grabbed Hermione's wrist for them to walk slower.

"Grace ?" He whispered once they were a few meters behind the other team members. Hermione cocked her eyebrow. "Why did you save me ?" He kept going.

"Is that really important ?" Hermione smiled.

"Yes it is."

Hermione looked at him for a while. Silas could have been described as cute, he had golden curls gently falling on his forehead, two big amber eyes and freckles on his nose. Hermione genuinely liked him. So, for a brief moment, she considered telling him the truth.

"We have a friend in common." She replied, mischief visible in her brown eyes. Silas froze and flushed from his neck to his cheeks.

"I-I-I-" Silas stuttered.

"Let's go Silas, we have a game to win." Hermione softly cut him.

Most of the students were all joining their next room when everyone froze. The sound of heavy boots on the stone floors made everyone panic. The players all recognized this sound. They had heard it thousands of times over the last years. Mister Cytisus, the Herbology Professor had the habit of wearing large dragon leather boots, which with his weight, made the floors shake.

"Is it part of the game ?" Edgard hushed.

"I don't think so." Hermione replied. "Quick, hide."

Each student ran, as silently as possible, into the closest room. As Hermione began running towards one of the classrooms on the far left, she felt someone grabbing her wrist and pulling her inside another room. She looked up and saw Tom, his point finger on his mouth to tell her to stay quiet. Her gaze stayed stuck on his finger. Antonin Dolohov was sitting on one of the chairs, his face towards the blackboard. In the following minutes, Edgard, Edmund and Thorus joined them.

"Should someone cast a Silencio ?" Edmund whispered.

Hermione took out her wand and cast a wordless one.

"How long are we going to stay here ?" Edgard wondered out loud.

"I have no idea." Hermione answered.

"I hope no one got caught."

"I thought Pollux had planned everything." Dolohov mumbled from his chair.

Tom took out his parchment from his back pocket and read out loud what Pollux had just written to all the teams.

" **Stay where you are. I will tell you when to get out. And if you get caught, don't be a snitch."**

"Well, it appears as if we are stuck in here for a while." Tom sat down not far from Dolohov and put the parchment flat on the desk. Edmund and Edgard settled at the back of the room and began chatting while Thorus sat in front of Dolohov. Hermione approached Tom and sat on top of the desk next to his.

"I noticed you didn't get rid of Diggory." She started.

"You told me not to." He replied.

"Since when do you listen to what I say ?"

"Your last advice ended up being useful."

"Wait ? She told you not to get rid of him ?" Dolohov intervened. "Is that why we're still stuck with him ?"

"Eavesdropping much, Dolohov ?" Hermione snorted. Antonin just shot her a mean glance but chose on ignoring her remark.

"Don't you see she just wants us to lose ?" Dolohov kept asking Tom.

"For fuck sakes Dolohov, it has nothing to do with the game." Hermione snapped. Tom hadn't opened his mouth since the beginning of this altercation. Hermione felt as if he were quite enjoying watching the two of them bickering. "I put Diggory on your team."

"Why ?"

Tom finally stood up. "His father is the new Head of Magical Transportation Dolohov. It might be interesting for us to have a little chat with him."

"Then why, since the beginning of the game, have you been trying to get rid of him, Tom ?" Dolohov almost barked.

"Because she just told me." Tom snapped, his voice tight from the acknowledgment that he didn't know himself.

"So you listen to Hortense now ? Are you going to ask us to listen to her as well ?" Dolohov rose his voice.

"Dolohov." Tom growled.

"What ? You know what I think of her Tom."

"Everyone knows, " Hermione snorted, "you're not that subtle Dolohov. So for once in your life, shut it."

"Who do you think you are ?" Antonin snapped. "You arrive here like you own the goddamn place, you try to manipulate everyone with your tragic little backstory, you end up in our ranks, Merlin knows ho-"

"Stop." Tom cut him, his voice low and stone cold. Antonin looked at Tom and cocked his head.

"Whatever you're trying to do Tom, you're just wasting your time. She is going to end up playing all of us." Tom smirked at this. "You shouldn't listen to what she has to say. No one should trust her."

"Haven't it crossed your mind Dolohov that she is here because she knows how to play ? Politics is a game and she is one of the few who knows the rules. Instead of complaining all the time and wasting everyone's time, try to do something useful for once."

"You're losing focus Tom !" Dolohov almost whined. "Think with your brain instead of-"

Dolohov didn't have the time to finish his sentence that Tom had taken him by the collar. Tom was at least two inches taller than the other boy, but Dolohov had always been stocky. At this moment, Antonin looked like a scared child. His eyes opened wide and his Adam's apple was bobbing as he tried to gulp. Tom's fist became white from the intensity of his grip. The prefect slightly leaned towards Antonin's ear and whispered something. Hermione saw all colours draining from his face. Tom straightened his back and stared at him, he waited for Dolohov to slowly nod his head to let him go.

The door opened and the six people present in the room all turned around to witness Cole and Isodor entering.

"What are you doing ?" Cole asked.

"The game has restarted. Everyone has finished their fifth task, we were looking for you." Isodor explained.

Dolohov rapidly left the room, followed by the others. Hermione went to join them in the corridor when Tom took her by the wrist. She looked down at her hand and tried to free herself from his grip.

"I defended you Hortense but if you even think about playing me I will not hesitate. You know what I am capable of." Tom told her in a deep voice.

Hermione didn't feel like answering this threat. Tom had recently played the good guy with her, almost friendly, too friendly. Casual touches, compliments, jokes. She knew it was only a part of his plan but at this moment all of that was gone. She was standing in front of someone who had killed, liked it and was ready to do it again. Hermione's face must have shown uneasiness because Tom gently let go of her wrist, letting his finger caress the back of her hand and tried to soften his gaze.

She saw right through him.

* * *

(CASSANDRE) - (WALBURGA)

Cassandre lied to get out of the game. His team didn't even realise. He was a good liar after all, he simply said that someone had used a Wand card against him when he was the one who did. Would that be considered suicide ?

He didn't care. He had a reason for why he did it.

Cassandre was casually leaning against the wall in the fifth-floor corridor. He had his left leg propped against the wall. He watched from afar his team leave towards the next step. He quickly turned his head in the opposite direction. His curly hair was elegantly falling on his forehead. Once the corridor was empty, he pushed himself off the wall and began walking toward where he was looking. He kept looking around him to make sure no one followed him. His heart was hammering in his chest, he felt a lump in his throat. He arrived in front of the door. He fixed his tie and carded his finger through his hair to make it look nicer.

He gently pushed the door open and saw her, waiting for him in the middle of the room. She was basked in the soft light of the moon. Her eyes were soft as they laid upon him. A small smile grew on her lips and Cassandre restrained himself from capturing them with his own. She was as beautiful as ever. Her hair was falling past her shoulder in soft curls, her eyes, often described as cold and stern from other students, were nothing but warm and loving to him. They didn't talk, they just stood there admiring each other. Every time they met it felt like it would be the last time. They didn't need to talk to say what they had to say. They only had to look at each other and let their eyes make the conversation. Even though the situation was nothing but difficult, Cassandre felt as if loving her was the easiest thing he had ever had to do.

He finally reached her, his right hand coming to rest on her cheek. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips against hers. She stayed still for half a second before putting her hands behind his neck and giving herself to the kiss. As they parted, Cassandre let his forehead fall on hers. She began laughing and he joined her.

It was always the same. They would kiss and laugh and talk. The world stopped in those moments, it was just the two of them. Until reality was drawn upon them.

They were lying on the floor, Walburga's eyes stuck on the ceiling and Cassandre's stuck on her.

"What are we doing ?" She whispered.

"We said we would think about that later." He replied as he interlaced his fingers with hers. She turned her head and looked at him.

"I think we reached it."

Cassandre sat up and pulled at his hair. "Until your graduation, we're free Walburga."

"Free ?" She repeated and let out a disbelieving laugh. "We are not free Cassandre. We're constantly lying to our family, our friends, everyone."

"Well, I feel free when I am with you." He replied in a small voice.

"Cassandre…"

"Tell me then. Look me in the eyes and tell me you want me to go." He turned toward her.

"You know I can't."

"So why do you do that ?" He stood up and put his hands in his hair to tear at it. "Every time. You go back to this. Why can't you just let yourself enjoy the moment, Walburga ?"

"Because it feels wrong." She slightly rose her voice and stood in front of him. Cassandre froze and furrowed his brows.

"It feels wrong ?" He echoed, hurt evident in his voice.

"No-"

"You're messing with my head." He took a step back and saw her expression morph into sadness.

"I'm sorry Cassandre. But we need to open our eyes and acknowledge the fact that we are bound to fail."

"Not tonight. Tomorrow we'll go back to ignoring each other. But give me tonight. Let me tell you one last time that I love you."

She took a step forward. They were only inches away from each other, sharing the same air.

"Then tell me."

* * *

ALL TEAMS

Tom had watched Grace leaving the room. He was currently pacing, his gaze focused on his feet. His hands were slightly shaking from anger and his breath became ragged. Tom had felt a difference since he had made two Horcruxes. He was annoyed more easily and his patience was wearing thinner every day. While researching this dark magic, he had read about the possible side effects and accepted them. However, Tom finally realised that it would be harder to control than anticipated.

He took one last deep breath and went to join the others in the Great Hall. The four tables, usually placed in the middle of the room, were pushed against the walls and were covered with food and beverages. People were chatting in small groups, usually a drink in their hands.

"Want a drink ?" He heard someone ask on his right. Tom turned his head and saw Pollux in the doorway.

"Is it part of the sixth task ?" Tom simply asked.

"It's break time." He avoided answering.

Pollux cast a Silencio in the room and approached the professors' table. He loudly clapped his hand to get everyone's attention.

"Congratulations everyone. You've played hard since the beginning and I think you all deserve a little break. You'll find food and drinks on the table. Enjoy."

Tom went by the table and poured himself a glass of elf's wine.

"What the hell happened ?" Abraxas abruptly asked him.

"Hello to you too, Malfoy."

"Antonin is mad."

"Dolohov needs to know when to shut up." Tom coldly replied, obviously not in the mood to talk about Antonin's behaviour. Tom turned around and leaned against the table and looked around the room. "How's your team ?" He finally asked Malfoy.

"We voted Briggs out. Still have Lovegood though, I talked with him. His father works for the Prophet, he has told me a lot of things."

Tom nodded at that and let his gaze fall on Grace, laughing with Cole and Pollux then on Dolohov who was chatting with some sixth-year. She had not only put important people in his team, she had put them in each of the lads' team.

"We will talk about that later." He said as he looked at Abraxas, a small smirk on his lips.

From afar, he saw Edgard and Isodor joining Grace. He pushed himself off the table and went by their side. Edgard started congratulating Pollux on his game, Isodor and Malfoy eagerly joining the conversation. In front of him were standing Cole and Grace, laughing at some inside joke Tom couldn't understand. At some point, Pollux turned towards them.

"Quit it." He said with a smug smile.

"Stop fraternising with the enemy." Edgard lightly scolded Grace.

"Yes, stop flirting, Cole." Pollux added.

Isodor was loudly chewing on one of the sweets he had taken from the table. Everyone stopped to look at him. "That is really good." He said with a full mouth and a shrug. "What's that ?"

"French food. Ask Grace." Pollux answered.

Grace took the small sweet in her hand and made a small disgusted face. "Those are _Calissons d'Aix_. I really don't like them."

"Well I do." Isodor smiled. "More for me then."

Grace turned towards the table and gathered some food on a plate. Cole went to steal one sweet from her when she playfully slapped his hand. Pollux, who just witnessed it, opened his mouth to speak, malice in his eyes.

"So, what is the sixth task ?" Cole abruptly spoke up to pull the rug from under Pollux. The latter only answered with a sly grin. He went to the middle of the room and loudly clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. The students altogether lowered their voices and looked at the game master

"Having fun ?" Pollux asked the crowd which answered with cheers. "Please don't forget that you're playing a game after all." He became walking among the players, sometimes stopping to add a dramatic effect. "The sixth task is going to be a little different from the others. You won't have to resolve an enigma or use physical strength. You will only need to make a choice." He left the sentence hanging, a small smirk slowly drawing on his lips. "At the beginning of the game, I chose your teams for you. You had no say in it. Let's see how you would have built your own team. The only thing I ask for is five members per team. I'll add one more thing, your friends are not automatically the best one to team up with." Parkinson smirked.

"Wait," Warrington shouted, "we're twenty-three."

Pollux cocked his head to the side and smiled. "Well, I guess three of you are out." He jumped off the chair and went by the bar. He turned around with a glass in his hands. "And go on side quests for fuck's sake."

Tom felt Dolohov looking at him.

"What ?" Tom simply asked.

"Who do we want in ?" Antonin answered looking around the room.

Tom noticed Abraxas talking to Lovegood and nodded at him. He turned around and called out to Paul Diggory. "We made a great team so far Diggory, don't you think ?"

"Of course, we should keep the same one." The Hufflepuff smiled.

"We need two other players."

Tom knew who he wanted in his team, he had known since the beginning of the game. Almost every lad had taken their task seriously and had teamed up with useful players. Tom looked around the room and kept his gaze stuck on the one player.

"Are you serious ?" Antonin scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"What ?" Tom asked his friend wearily.

"Do _we need_ her or do _you_ just want her ?"

"Can you stop being a child ?" Tom snapped, shutting up Dolohov for good. "Grace !" He finally called her from afar.

Grace, at the moment in a conversation with Cole, spun around and shot a questioning look at him.

"Want to be on my team ?" He smirked. Grace approached and snickered as she recalled the exact same sentence he said to her earlier.

"Oh. Suddenly, you want me to play a game with you." She cocked an eyebrow and looked right at him, looking closely for any reaction from him following the jab. Tom decided on not replying to what he had just said. He simply held her gaze and waited for her to make up her mind.

"Fine." Grace finally spoke up.

"Who's going to be the final player ?" Paul interrupted.

"Milton should be on our team." She answered and smiled at Paul. A snort coming from Dolohov made her lose the smile and turned towards where the noise came from.

"Milton ?" Dolohov mocked her idea. "How about we forfeit the game right now ? We should take Edgard."

The two Slytherin turned towards Tom, as if they were waiting for the final decision to be made. He first looked at Antonin and knew that on top of suggesting Edgard as the last player to spite Grace, he genuinely thought it to be the good choice to make. Tom's eyes next fell on Grace, indifference visible on her face. Tom finally recalled what she had told him earlier.

"Oh Tom, don't make me think you still believe a team will win this game."

Tom internally smiled at her cleverness, she chose Milton to have the player to get rid off easily once the time would come. Milton was the easiest choice and she chose right.

"Mulciber." Tom called Milton. The latter almost arrived running by his side. Next to him, Dolohov rolled his eyes, almost as if he was anticipating Tom's decision.

The second the team was complete, the parchment in Tom's hand heated up.

" **Children's Anthology of Monsters,A by Newton Scamander**

 **Numerology and Grammatica, by**

 **Madcap Magic for Wacky Warlocks, by J.K. Rowling**

 **Magical Mediterranean Water-Plants and Their Properties, by Arthur Osborn**

 **Quintessence : A Quest, by Violeta Stitch**

 **The Standard Book of Spells, by Miranda Goshawk**

 **Guide to Advanced Occlumency, by Arsenius Jigger**

 **Abracadabra : An A-Z of Spooky Spells, by Catullus Spangle**

 **Triwizards Tragedies, by Carlos Eduardos**

 **Saucy Tricks for Tricky Sorts, by Phyllida Spore"**

He showed the others the list and they all automatically went towards the library.

Pollux, as the sneaky Slytherin he was, had thought this through. He had not only asked for the teams to retrieve books from the library, he also made sure to make this task happen at the same time as Mrs. Vablatsky's round, the librarian. The four teams were in the hallway, all waiting for Pollux to give them the go. They all looked at each other, impatient, grinning from ears to ears.

 **What are you waiting for ?** Pollux rhetorically asked them on each parchment. Without a second of hesitation, the twenty students silently dove into the library. The room was almost pitch black if it was not for the moonlight coming through the windows.

"I don't like that." Milton whispered to his team only to get shushed in return. However, nineteen students shushing at the same time only made more noise than Milton's little comment.

"Is someone in there ?" They all heard Mrs. Vablatsky's shy voice asking at the back of the library. This was it, the beginning of the task. The twenty students split up and began their search.

Tom went directly towards the Herbology section. He had left his team and had run to the far left of the library. He lit up his wand and used it to illuminate the books. He searched for Arthur Osborn's one. He skimmed through the books cover, up and down the huge shelves. As he finally took hold of the book, he heard footsteps not far from him. He quickly used a Nox and stayed very still. He could hear his own breath mixed with the steps coming closer and closer. Then, a slap. Or what seemed like a slap. Tom furrowed his brows at the sound and tried to get a glimpse of what was happening. "Habilito." He heard Abraxas Malfoy whisper.

"Really Malfoy ?" He heard Edmund mumbled. Abraxas and Edmund were standing in front of each other, Rosier's right hand clutching a card on his chest and Malfoy slyly grinning. Tom, from the look on Edmund's friends, perfectly knew that Malfoy had used his Wand card.

"I just want to win." Abraxas answered with a shrug. Edmund simply flipped the blond off and went to leave the library. As Malfoy turned around to keep looking for a book, he met Tom's glance. The prefect simply shook his head no in a disapproving way dragging out a low chuckle from Abraxas.

"I know there is someone in there !" Mrs. Vablatsky's voice resonated through their section of the library. The two Slytherin parted ways. Tom caught a glimpse of Paul Diggory, two books under his armpits.

When he felt safe enough to lit up his wand again, he did and began skimming again through the shelves. The one rule for succeeding this challenge was to be attentive and quick to respond. When Tom heard any noise, he simply put out the light and waited out. He did just that when he heard steps coming his way. He took a step back until his back was flushed against the shelf. He then heard quiet laughter coming from behind him.

"What are you doing ?" He heard Grace whisper.

"Come with me."

Tom got quite interested in the conversation taking place a row behind between Grace and Cole.

"What are you talking about ?" Grace quietly laughed. Tom could almost see the grin on her face and the twinkle in her eyes.

 _Is she trying to manipulate him ?_

 _I know how to read the signs : the flirt, the sweet voice_

 _I use that too._

"Pollux gave me a clue. We only have to go to Abe's." Cole murmured. "It's one of the side quests."

"We're in the middle of a task Cole. And we're not even on the same team."

"Who cares ? It's my birthday."

Tom wondered if she would leave with him. After all, Cole was her friend, it was his birthday. It would make sense if she did. However, something didn't sit well with Tom. He wouldn't allow that if he had a say in this decision. He would tell her that she couldn't leave the team. The team she agreed to be a part of.

"I can't leave my team like that." Grace acknowledged reluctantly. Was she really eager to go with Cole or was she only a really good actress ?

"Come on, they have Riddle. They'll be fine." A little silence followed Cole's sentence before Tom heard laughter once again. He imagined the small nod she must have given Cole and the huge smile slowly drawing on the latter's face.

"Leave now and meet me in ten minutes in the arithmancy classroom." Cole finished.

Before Grace could voice her answer, Tom decided he had heard enough. He pushed the shelf with his shoulders and made some books fall. As anticipated, Grace and Cole startled at the sound and left this section of the library. After making sure the coast was clear, Tom went where the two friends were talking. He put the books back on the shelves and smirked as he saw two items laying on the floor. He cast a lumos and crouched down to have a better look.

One Cole's cards, a draught of the living death, and a chocolate frog. He picked up the two, put them in his pocket and realised he had to act quickly.

He ran past the shelves, pushed the book he found into Paul's arms and took a grip of Isodor's shoulders as the latter was running past him.

"Use it on Cole." Tom ordered the blond Slytherin as he handed him the poison card he had just picked up.

"What ?" Isodor asked, completely lost.

"Use this card on Cole, Avery." Tom slowly repeated. Isodor didn't dare ask any more questions at the tone Tom just used. He only took the card, nodded his head and went away.

* * *

HERMIONE

Hermione was casually seated in one of the chairs. Her legs were propped on the desk and her eyes looking around the room. The door opened and Hermione jumped off the seat.

"You took your time." She said as she turned around. the smile she previously had on her lips quickly fell as she saw who entered the room.

Tom was leaning against the wooden door, his arms crossed upon his chest.

"Waiting for someone ?" He asked.

 _Why is it always him ?_

"What did you do to him ?" She shot back. Tom lowered his head and let out a laugh. He pushed himself off the door and took a step forward.

"Why do you always think the worst of me ?"

Hermione saw what could be close to a grin as he said the last sentence. She simply cocked her head to the side and rose an eyebrow. This made him laugh again.

"Why are you doing this ?" Tom finally asked. Hermione furrowed her brows in response, not fully understanding what he meant. "With Woodcroft." He added.

Hermione was left entirely baffled. For the year she's been at Hogwarts in this timeline, she has learned to know a few things about Tom. First, it seemed that he always found his way into situations that didn't concern him. Secondly, he was almost certain that the world constantly revolved around him. And thirdly, Tom believed he was entitled to know everything.

But one other thing Hermione had learned in the past year with Tom was that sometimes it was easier to let him do the talk.

"What do you think is happening with Woodcroft ?" She folded her arms upon her chest, mirroring the position he was just in. She sat on the table and crossed her legs too.

"I think you are trying to get him to do something for you." He answered. He began pacing around her, his voice low and his signature smirk on his lips. "For me."

Hermione could only laugh. "We're only friends Tom."

"So ? Who said you cannot manipulate your friends ?"

"I believe we have a different vision of what friendship is, Tom." Hermione rose from her seat to leave the room.

He stopped her from moving forward by grabbing her left arm. "Do we ?" He simply asked her. The proximity of their two bodies made her realise she could feel his breath on her face, she could smell his scent, a mix of wood and musk. She shook her arm out of his grip and took a step back.

"Why do you have to always do that ?" Hermione shot at him.

"Do what ?" It was Tom's turn to sit on a table.

"Putting in your two pennies."

Tom chuckled at that and met her interrogating gaze. "Let's go. I guess the team has finished the sixth task." On that he got up and went by the door. He opened the latter and gestured for her to go out before him.

"I hope it was worth it Tom. Ruining our chance to get a clue that could help us win the game for a little discussion of no value in an empty classroom." Hermione mumbled as she went past him.

"We can still go on the side quest. I have never said we could not." Tom noticed.

"Tom, what was interesting in this side quest was spending time with my friend. Do you see him anywhere ? No, so I won't go on any side quest."

Hermione saw something flash behind his eyes. She couldn't put a finger on it, but he seemed to have realised something.

"Ok." He nodded his head. "Let's go then. Go find Cole and go on the side quest."

His voice was not cold nor stern, it only showed indifference.

"Fine. Let's go." She said in return. They kept looking at each other for a couple of seconds, none of them moving a finger, only keeping up their gaze and their heads high. They both started walking simultaneously. The tension that could have been felt minutes prior was slowly dissipating, until there was no residue left. At a junction, Tom a few steps ahead of her turned to the left.

"Do you even know where you're going ?" She called out to him. He stopped in his tracks and let out a soft exhale. When he finally turned around he simply said "no, not really."

They looked at each other for some time before Hermione began laughing quietly. She was herself surprised by that. But it felt good, really good. The situation was ridiculous, Tom was ridiculous with his lost face and the small smirk he usually had when he looked at her. Everything was ridiculous, so Hermione laughed. She went towards one of the paintings and casually began talking to it.

She remembered how awkward she first felt when she began talking to each painting at the beginning of last year. But as time went by, it had become easier and almost pleasant. As the memory flashed in her head, she quickly tried to put it away. Ignoring the problem was the only thing she could do at the moment.

Hermione could feel Tom's gaze on her as she asked for direction. Finally, the painting told her that he had heard some students talking about dungeons.

"Now, we know where we have to go." She told him. His eyes were still squinted as he kept looking at her. She could almost feel his mind rushing and his thoughts bubbling inside his head. "Once again, I provide." Hermione smiled, mimicking a little bow.

Tom's eyes opened as he heard the last two words. She watched as his face turned from intense thinking into complete awareness. He recalled the words she had said to him that night in the Chamber of Secrets. He recalled her enumeration of help provided to him.

"You are right." He finally acknowledged. Hermione startled a bit at the declaration. She perfectly knew he needed her but she wouldn't have thought him to confess. She only nodded and they both started walking towards the dungeons.

"How did you manage to stop Cole from coming ?" Hermione asked him.

"I used Cole's card." Tom simply answered. "The draught of the living death."

"How convenient for you to draw this card."

"Oh no, you do not understand. It was Cole's card. He dropped it. I simply picked it up."

She spun her head and saw the sly smirk he had on his face. "By the way, he dropped that too. Would you mind giving it back to him ?" He finished as he handed her a chocolate frog, a sly smirk on his face. Hermione rolled her eyes and quickly took the sweet out of his hand and securely placed it in her pocket.

They saw Dolohov from afar as they approached the potion's classroom.

"Where the fuck were you ?" Dolohov spat, more to Hermione's face than Tom's. "You've missed the entire eighth's task."

"Eighth ?" Tom cut his friend.

"Yes. After the library, Pollux told us to go to the DADA classroom and we had to-"

"The team won Dolohov, so why are you driving us up the wall ?" Hermione cut him.

The three of them entered the potion classroom and found Paul Diggory and Milton waiting for them. He was standing next to a large table where seven were arranged. At first glance, it would have seemed like they were placed in no particular order. The smaller ones were arranged in between taller vials, the colours were mismatched. However, something bugged Hermione, she had a sense of déjà-vu.

Tom directly went for the parchment and read out loud what was written on it.

" **Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,**

 **Three of us will help you, whichever you would find,**

 **Three among us seven will let you move ahead,**

 **Another will transport the drinker back instead,**

 **Two among our number hold only nettle wine,**

 **Three of us are killers, tequila in those you, you won't be fine.**

 **Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,**

 **To help you with your choice, we give you these clues four:**

 **First, however, slyly the poison tries to hide**

 **You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;**

 **Second, different are those who stand at either end,**

 **But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;**

 **Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,**

 **Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;**

 **Fourth, the second left and the second on the right**

 **Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.**

 **Choose the right potion and you shall pass. Choose the wrong potion and suffer the consequences."**

Hermione restrained herself from laughing as she began reading the riddle. She had not only read it before, during her first year, but she had solved it. She began wondering how Snape, almost fifty years later, came out with the same riddle. She then realised that he had been Slughorn's pupil and that he must have taken it directly from him.

"What the fuck is that ?" Dolohov spat.

"Fucking Pollux." Tom followed quickly after. "He told us we wouldn't have any more riddles."

Hermione knew she had to fake thinking about it, so she took the parchment in her hands and began reading it slowly once again. She then stopped in front of the table. "I got it."

She slowly turned around to face the boy "There are only three potions though."

A silence followed this news. No one dared talk nor move. She quickly shot a glance at Tom and saw him already looking back. He was silently waiting for her to do what she brought Milton for. Eliminate him when necessary.

"Habilito." She sheepishly told the short boy as she put her _Wand_ card on his chest. She expected Milton to say something, however, she only saw the disappointment in his eyes.

"I see." Mulciber finally spoke up, his voice thick. Tom, Paul and Antonin all watched him leave the room as Hermione kept her gaze stuck on the floor.

Hermione didn't wait for the other to speak. She picked up four vials and carefully gave one to each.

"And we are supposed to blindly trust you ?" Dolohov asked her. Hermione didn't even look at him, she simply stared at Tom.

"I provide." She told him. She saw the way his mouth slightly turned upwards. Tom down his potion in one go, without any hesitation. Paul shrugged and drank his too. The four players stayed in silence, all waiting for something to happen. However, nothing did. Hermione smiled.

She then brought her vial to her lips to drink the beverage, her gaze stuck on Dolohov as if to bait him.

"Stop !" Dolohov almost shouted. She lowered her drink and cocked her head. "Switch with me."

"Excuse me ?"

"If you gave me the right potion, there should be no problem in switching with me. Right, Hortense ?"

She looked at Tom, he was watching the altercation intensely. Dolohov ripped the vial out of her hand, replaced it with his own and drank it.

She waited.

Waited for the potion to react. And it did.

Dolohov began feeling something on his forehead and put his right hand on it. White pustules bloomed on his forehead and a couple of seconds later it read : CONSEQUENCES.

"You're so predictable Dolohov." Hermione smiled at him. She rose her glass and drank the right potion.

"I'm going to kill you !" Dolohov yelled, anger rising in his guts. Tom pulled him back by the shoulders.

"Calm down Antonin." He tried to calm him. "It is only a game."

"She fucking crossed me !" Dolohov kept yelling, shrugging out of Tom's grip "She crossed Milton. She is going to fucking cross you one day." On this, he left the room slamming the door behind him.

Paul quickly grabbed the parchment laying on the table and called the two other players.

 **"Meet me in the GO Space."**

"Shall we ?" Tom asked.

The common room atmosphere was perfect. The music was delightful, the tables filled with drinks and food. The people were all chatting or dancing around the room. A small smile crept on Hermione's face.

"Finally !" She heard Pollux's loud voice welcoming her team. "The finalist, please gather in front of me."

Hermione, Paul and Tom joined Abraxas, Cole, Warrington and Edgard in the middle of the room. The other former players created a circle around them and all clapped their hands.

"Give us the clue Pollux !" Warrington asked.

Pollux grinned, looking directly at Cole. "Well, it's golden." The players rolled their eyes and Pollux kept going "it could fit in your pocket."

The clues Pollux was giving away were almost useless. He had this shit-eating grin plastered on his face while he looked at the seven finalists who were trying to find the golden item. Warrington looked behind the couches' pillows, Edgard was scanning the tables and the crowd was shouting ideas out of nowhere. Yet, Pollux's gaze had not left Cole.

Hermione knew something was not right. She then looked at Cole, who was laughing with Warrington as he looked on the mantelpiece. Still, Pollux's gaze had not left Cole.

 _Pollux wants Cole to win._

 _He wouldn't have put the golden item out in the open._

Hermione looked at Cole. She knew deep inside her that Cole must have the item on him.

"It might be edible." Pollux added another clue and at those words, everything clicked. She put her left hand above her pocket.

Pollux never intended for someone else but Cole to win. The other players never got a real chance. Cole was the only one who could have won the game. Well, he was supposed to.

She slowly put out the chocolate frog that Tom gave her. The chocolate frog he had himself stolen from Cole. The chocolate frog Pollux had given the birthday boy before the game even began. The chocolate frog that was golden, small and edible.

Hermione softly laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.

 _Pollux really is a little shit._

"What do you have in your hands ?" Edgard pressed as he saw her clutching to the sweet. The room went quiet and everyone turned to look at her.

"How did you get that ?" Pollux jumped off the table he was standing on top of and approached her.

"It's not mine. It's Cole's." She smiled. She saw the birthday boy across the room, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Did Grace win ?" Warrington asked Pollux.

"Well-"

"I did not. I didn't open it. And to win I would have to open it, right Pollux ?" Hermione cut her friend.

"You are right." The game master smiled. "You would need to open it."

Hermione left Pollux's side and went by Cole's. She took his left hand, opened it and dropped the chocolate frog in his palm. "Happy birthday." She whispered. Cole looked at her as he opened the box, his eyes never leaving hers. Hermione heard the cheer coming from the crowd as a golden frog escaped its packaging.

* * *

TOM

After Cole had won, the party was in full swing. The lads and Grace were gathered next to the fireplace, enjoying a drink.

Tom was leaning against the wall, his legs crossed, turning his ring around his middle finger. His brain hadn't stopped rushing since the end of the game. He didn't understand something and it bothered him.

 _Since when does she not care about losing ?_

 _She would have not given the frog away if it was not for something._

 _She plays. The only time she loses is when she has something in mind._

 _What are you doing Grace ?_

"I got some good information from Lovegood." Abraxas told the others. Tom slowly shook his head and looked at the blond.

"At least someone got some." Dolohov pointed out, while glancing at Grace.

"Something to say Dolohov ?" She asked him.

"We didn't get shit from Diggory. Why did we even keep him then ?"

Tom watched Grace from the corner of his eyes, eager to know how she would explain herself. She finally cleared her throat and replied. "We could have sacked him so many times. Yet, we didn't. You know what else ? He had fun. He had fun with us. He trusts us." She took a step towards Dolohov. "From now on, if one of us needs information from him, he will give them willingly. So yes Dolohov, that is why I put Diggory on your team."

The two of them began bickering and Tom spaced out. He had had enough of this for the night. He looked around the room, at the students enjoying their nights. On the far right of the common room were Pollux and Cole, laughing around a drink. Cole had put one of his arms around his friend's shoulders and looked like he was thanking him. Parkinson then turned his head and directly looked at Grace, grinning and slightly shoving Cole in his ribs. Tom saw a light blush creeping up Cole's cheek and the embarrassment in his body position. Tom eyes darted from Grace to Cole several times before finally settling on the HeadBoy.

 _Oh._

* * *

 ** _Author's Note : _**

**_Hi guys, it took us global pandemic for us to finally finish this chapter._**

 ** _To be completely honest, we've been working on it for 5 months (actually half of it was already written five months ago)_**

 ** _We've been through seven versions of it (four during the last two weeks which wierdly coincides with the beginning of the quarantine in France)._**

 ** _At first, the game was 100x complexier(?) (personal number, more Cole's Cards, side quests - they went on the side quest in one version but it was too angsty for now -, tokens everywhere, random new rules, spill and fill your guts, never have i ever) sooooo we tried to simplify it a lot._**

 ** _We know that this chapter is not perfect and could be way better but if we have to make a slght modification w're not sure we will be physically do it. We're quite traumatised. We draw the line at 7 fucking drafts._**

 ** _By the way, we would like to apologize for any mistake you may read in this ff. English is not our first langage and even though we speak quite well (we think ?) it is absolutely not perfect._**

 ** _Hope you like it ._**

 ** _Lots of love;_**

 ** _-DDM's Managers_**


	17. CRASH INTO ME

**"Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

 **CHAPTER SEVENTEEN : CRASH INTO ME**

* * *

 _Song : Crash into Me by The Venice Connection_

 **Bold** _\+ Italics : Flash back_

13.11.1943 :

Breakfast had become simpler over time. Each meal had become easier, to be honest. The food didn't feel out of proportion anymore, the simple thought of eating her fill didn't seem selfish anymore. She almost enjoyed those moments.

Since Cole's birthday, three days prior, the atmosphere among the students has been friendly.

"Still can't believe you let Cole win," Edgard spoke up, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.

"For the last time Edgard, it was his birthday." Hermione sighed. "And close your mouth for God's sake."

Edmund snickered at Hermione's comment and went to pour himself another glass of pumpkin juice.

Hermione perked up as she heard the familiar rustle of the owls. The Great Hall suddenly went quiet and the entire student body rose their heads towards the ceiling. Each owl was carrying one newspaper. Hermione smiled as she saw her own owl approaching.

During the summer she had finally decided on getting herself one. She had seen the bird one afternoon while walking in the _Quartier des Musiciens._ It had looked so fragile and scared. Hermione had simply extended her hand and had waited for the little owl to approach. It had not only approached her but had directly jumped into her palm.

Kaulitz gracefully landed on the table and dropped the newspaper next to Hermione's plate. It cocked his little head, patiently waiting for Hermione to pet it. The witch happily complied.

"Get this owl out of the table." Dolohov growled not far from her. Hermione rose her head and simply kept petting the little animal while looking at Antonin. Isodor laughed at the scene.

The lads and herself finally opened the newspaper and began reading. At usual, the headline stated something about Tuft. Even though not all the students were interested in politics, they all kept with the news and read the daily journal.

Something happened. Hermione wondered if she was hallucinating for a moment or if the letters were indeed moving. She heard small gasps around the room and little whisperings. She looked around her, she saw Edgard in front of her, his mouth a little agape. Then, she turned her head to the left and noticed Tom, his brows furrowed and his hand firmly gripping at the newspaper.

She finally lowered her eyes onto the front page and read what seemed to be an incentive to insurrection.

 **More than six months have passed since the dreadful day when the British wizards, blinded by promises from foes at home and abroad, lost touch with honor and freedom, thereby losing all.**

 **Since that 14th of April, when this political change has come and ruined Britain's great future. When Wilhelmina Tuft, the** _ **Almighty**_ **saviour of the underdogs, has begun withholding the truth.**

 **She fraternized with** _ **them**_ **. She created an entire department for** _ **them**_ **, hiding it from you for months. Department of** _ **Transitional Relations and Social Groups Cohesion**_ **as she would like to call it. A conceited name to blind you from seeing what it truly is : a way to involve the British Wizards to fight in this Second Muggle World War.**

 **She is willing to sacrifice you for** _ **them**_ **. She wants to involve you in** _ **their**_ **war, make you their** _ **secret**_ **weapon for you will serve as cannon fodder.**

 **Since the present government is incapable of making the right decision for its people, I ask you, the British Wizards to rise and to meet -**

The newspaper vanished in her hands before she had the time to finish reading. Hermione quickly looked around her to get a glimpse of the rest but noticed that every newspaper had disappeared. Dippet, at the professor table, had his wand slightly risen, his eyes open wide and lips pursed into a thin line. The silence that followed was deafening. It only lasted for a minute before chaos came crashing back. Hermione couldn't even think with that much noise around her. She suddenly felt light-headed and a buzzing sound echoing in her brain.

She rose her head and looked at Abraxas. He was leaning towards Tom to talk to him and the latter was shaking his head no. Tom seemed distraught, he was still looking at where the newspaper was a couple of minutes prior as if he couldn't understand what just happened. He had not planned any of this.

 _What is going on ?_

Hermione was still looking at Tom. She looked as he finally rose his head, his gaze still unfocused. Hermione knew him well enough now to know that he was only trying to sort everything out in his head. He could have looked scared if someone didn't know him. But he was far from scared, he was challenged.

"Silence !" Dippet voice echoed in the Great Hall. The student's voices lowered until nothing left could be heard. "Everyone resumes with their day, the perfects please escort the youngers to their first class."

* * *

13.11.1943:

Tom had avoided her gaze since breakfast ended. She had rushed past the students and had gone towards their DADA classroom. Dolohov had waited for him to talk, to say anything on the matter, however, Tom knew it was neither the time nor the place. As he finally entered the room he directly sat next to her, at the back. She startled a little and quickly ran away from his gaze.

"Did you finish reading it ?" He whispered.

"No. Did you ?"

Tom let a silence answer for him. Even though he didn't have the time to finish it, he'd imagine what the rest said. He wanted to tell her that she had just lost them their advantage. He had thousands though crossing through his mind but internally knew it was not the right moment to say.

The door behind them violently shut and someone walked towards the desk.

Tom remembered something. Today was their first day with Atticus Aldritch as their new professor. The auror put his dragon leather satchel on his desk and turned around to face the students. He was younger than Tom had imagined him to be. He had pictured an old man, more focused on politics than his auror job. However, he could not have been older than forty-five. Atticus had a light stubble on his cheeks as if he hadn't had the time to shave before coming today.

"Good morning everyone." He finally said. "First, I would like to apologize for not being able to teach since the beginning of the year. I can imagine Headmaster Dippet had told you about a previous engagement I had. I have talked with Professor Dumbledore about what you have begun to learn since school started. I must say I am really impressed, you have covered a lot of material. And knowing Dumbledore, I am sure you are all up to speed concerning DADA." He let out a small laugh.

Tom rolled his eyes. He really tried not to, but the fondness in his new teacher's voice about Dumbledore couldn't infuriate him more. Atticus sat on his desk and looked at the students in silence for a moment.

"I know you're all focused on what happened this morning. I want to make sure you all know this is just slander. None of what was written in this letter was true. I work closely with the government and believe me when I say that this was only lies. We are taking care of _him_."

"How would you even do that ?"

Tom turned his head towards where the question came from. Grace was looking at the teacher, her brows a little furrowed. The other students also turned around to face her, they were all baring pity in their eyes. Atticus shifted on the desk and looked at her.

"What do you mean Miss. Hortense ?" He calmly answered. Tom noticed he knew her last name.

"How do you plan on _getting rid_ of Grindelwald sir ?"

Tom grabbed her wrist underneath the table and tightened his grip as a warning. She gulped but kept her gaze away from him. At the front of the room, Atticus Aldritch chuckled at the awkwardness of the situation.

"Even if I do appreciate your concern Miss Hortense and find it entirely legitimate, I don't think a DADA class is the right place to debate about politics. However, I'd gladly talk further about that with you after class if you're available."

Before Grace even opened her mouth to talk, Tom knew she would say something she ought not to. He knew her temper and it was explosive. That is why he tightened his grip even more as a silent " _don't start_ ". She simply nodded, silently agreeing to meet him after this class. Atticus shot her a last glance then went behind the desk to retrieve the register.

"Are you done ?" Tom whispered. Grace finally met his gaze and smirked. She smirked and Tom was fed up with her. She smirked and Tom let go of her hand.

"I was planning on following what Albus had started, but given the situation, I think we could all benefit from something a little bit cheering. What have you heard about patronuses ?" Atticus started.

"There are two types of patronuses." Milton answered. "The corporeal and incorporeal. The patronus charm is the primary protection against dementors and lethifolds."

"Good, Mister... ?"

"Mulciber."

"Mulciber ? As in Denniston Mulciber ?" Milton shyly nodded. "Brilliant chap, would you mind giving him my regards ?"

Milton shrunk. He literally lost two inches in the last sentence. He looked away and nodded again, shame rising in his cheeks. Tom almost felt pity for the small boy at this moment. Even when he was doing things right, Milton Mulciber was always brought back to his brother, the successful, intelligent, charismatic brother. How could Milton even compare to that ?

Atticus didn't even look at the boy as he said the last sentence, he simply began walking around the classroom, his gaze floating from one student to another. He seemed relaxed and in his element. "Does anyone know the incantation ?"

Tom rapidly rose his hand. Atticus nodded his head to allow him to speak.

"Tom Riddle, sir." Tom firstly introduced himself. "The incantation is _Expecto Patronum_ with a circular hand movement."

"Good mister Riddle, 10 points to Slytherin."

The teacher stopped in front of his desk and put out his wand.

"I would like everyone to know that the patronus charm is one of the hardest spells. Not everyone in this classroom will be able to produce a corporeal one."

With a simple hand motion, a grey mist escaped his wand. The latter quickly materialised into an impala, galloping around the classroom. Gasps of wonder resounded around the room. At this moment, Tom acknowledged the appeal of this spell, it surely was one of the most impressive in terms of visual. However, he was not feeling as excited as the other students.

"Does anyone know how I produced it ?" The teacher asked.

The students were all to focus on the patronus to even think about an answer. Except one.

"With a happy thought." Grace said.

Tom frowned at her answer. Her voice was flat, not showing any emotion, however, her eyes betrayed something else. Tom was discreetly looking at her, at the way her lips were twitching when she finished answering.

"Very good Miss Hortense." Aldritch grinned at her. "I would like everyone to think about what Miss Hortense just described. What happy thought would you use ?"

The rest of the lesson went by rapidly. Atticus Aldritch was a good teacher, he was patient and understanding. He had this aura that made people like him. He let the students go without any homework and called for Grace to stay behind. Tom had planned on waiting for her outside the room, he couldn't be left in the dark. He couldn't bear it.

"Tom." Dolohov was waiting for him a little down the corridor, his satchel hanging from his left shoulder. "You don't even know how long it's going to take."

The prefect simply picked up his bag from the ground and followed Antonin to their next class.

She arrived thirty minutes after their history of magic class began. She dropped a letter on Mister Binns' desk and looked around the room for a place to sit. Belone had put her bag on the chair next to her for Grace. Tom was looking at her, looking for something that would tell him what happened in those thirty minutes with Atticus Aldritch. The only thing Grace let on before sitting next to her friend, was a wicked grin.

* * *

13.11.1943 :

Milton shut the door and joined the others around the table. All eyes were on Tom, casually leaning in his chair, at the end of the table. He had his right ankle on his left knee, both of his elbows on the armrest and he was playing with his ring.

"Go ahead. Say your piece." He ordered the lads. The others stayed silent for a second before Thorus rose and put both of his hands on the wooden table.

"Grindelwald got ahead of us. We all know he was the one who wrote the article this morning. He took our advantage away." Nott said. "We could have used this information as leverage I guess, or in a thousand other ways. But, we finally have more information about what this new department is."

Edgard was vehemently nodding his head as his friend talked, obviously agreeing with everything Thorus had just said. "I don't believe Grindelwald gave us the real purpose of this department though." Lestrange finally spoke up as Thorus sat back down. "Tuft may be a mudblood and muggle lover, but she is not stupid."

Hermione tried not to flinch at the insult. Edgard had spat the word as if it was the most disgusting thing in the world.

"What would the department be for then ?" Milton shyly asked.

"What about something about blood status ? She wants fucking cohesion apparently. She wants everyone to be equal and shit. She wants to strip us from our privileges." Edmund said.

"You mean between pureblood, half-blood, and mudblood ?" Milton asked.

"I think it's a possibility. She's maybe setting up an entire department to get rid of what we are and represent."

It was not Hermione's first meeting with the lads. She had heard several conversations and heated arguments. However, she had never witnessed a crisis centre like this one. They were scared of losing their heritage, they were blaming everyone, trying to find a way out.

"Could it be about races ? Between wizards, goblins, centaurs, and all the others ?" Abraxas suggested.

"Not possible." Isodor supplied. "I talked to Belone during lunch. As you know, her father is head of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and he had not heard anything about that."

Hermione cleared her throat and waited for the lads to all look at her.

"Grindelwald may have lied about the purpose of the department." Hermione began. "But I am entirely convinced that he has hidden the truth behind the words. In order to manipulate the truth, you need to have it first, you need to add several layers of lies on top of what is real. And what is persistent in the article ? The muggles. I think Tuft wants to create a department between the Magical World and the Muggle World."

"We already have that." Dolohov said in a condescending tone.

"Actually, we don't, Dolohov," Hermione replied in the same tone, "we have two ministers, one muggle and one magic, talking to each other once in a decade. I don't call that a department."

Dolohov's eyes became darker at Hermione's sentence and he closed his fists on the table.

"How about you do what is asked of you Hortense, before giving your two cents on this matter ?" He spat. "We're still waiting for your input on the pictures. Thanks to you, we lost our advantage today. If you had simply done what was asked of you, we wouldn't be here."

Hermione snorted at that. "And what would you have done with the information I would have given ? You would have stormed into the ministry, a picture in hand ?"

"At least, we would have a name." Abraxas defended his friend. "We would be able to do something about Avery's father."

The other lads chipped in, all of them giving their thoughts about the situation, about the fact that Hermione had not been able to recognize anyone in the pictures she had been given.

"Enough !"

They all startled at the sound and turned toward the voice. They had all almost forgotten Tom's presence in the room, he had been so quiet since the beginning of the meeting. He violently put his two hands on the table and rose from his seat. Tom slowly leaned above the table. The light from the chimney cast a somber shadow on his face. The scar he had gotten the day of the battle almost a year ago stood out even more and gave him an eerie look.

"Even in a time of crisis, you cannot go beyond your childish quarrels." Tom said. "What happened today only reminds us that we are not the only one working on Tuft's downfall. However, we are the only ones with pure ambition. The fact that we are all gathered on this day only proves that we are more than just students, we are the future of this nation. None of us is too proud, none of us too high, none is too rich, and none too poor, to stand together against an unfair executive."

Tom looked at them, each one of them before his eyes laid on her. Hermione didn't know what to think at this moment. She felt as if she was witnessing the birth of something bigger.

"All around us, the warning signs of a collapse are apparent." Tom continued. "This new department, the cabinet reshuffle, and more changes to come are her way of bringing us down. Her only ambition is to make a powerful and insidious attack on you. You, the future of our nation. You, the embodiment of what she despises : the true power you hold, the true tradition you want to keep alive. She wants to shatter everything you stand for and I will not let her."

Hermione couldn't tear her gaze away from him, she couldn't help but stay frozen on her chair. Tom's rhetoric was not only innate but also well thought out. He knew exactly what to say to capture their attention, he knew exactly what word to use to make them feel a part of his plan, he knew exactly what he was doing.

What happened before her eyes, was something she had never seen before. Tom was not a sixth-year prefect at this moment, he was a _ruler_. He was transcendent and it was beautiful.

"Today, as Thorus has said, we have missed an opportunity. We indeed had leverage with this information and it is not ours to share no more. We will not let this happen ever again. _I_ will not let this happen ever again." Tom punctuated his last sentence for the lads and Hermione to understand the gravity of the situation.

The atmosphere shifted in the room. Hermione felt it. The seven lads were all nodding solemnly.

"Malfoy," Tom said, "use this newfound friendship with Lovegood to find out how Grindelwald infiltrated the Daily Prophet and get me a copy of the article in its entirety." The prefect looked at Edmund. "Rosier, find everything you can on undersecretary Rockwood from your father, we might need him. Dolohov, talk with Diggory and see if he would be willing to talk about his father's job and give you some intel. Lestrange, contact everyone you know within the ministry and give me a detailed report on the consequences of Grindelwald's article within the government." Tom stopped talking for a moment and looked at the chimney. "Nott, Mulciber, I need you to find out how the government will publicly respond to this. Avery, keep me posted about your father's job situation. If anything changes, I want to be informed. Was I clear ?"

The seven lads nodded their heads and Hermione was stunned. Tom had given his instruction at an impressive speed as if his mind had worked out everything perfectly. All the lads had simply nodded, not even asking why they should do what had been ordered. They simply accepted Tom's orders. Tom nodded for the lads to leave the room. Hermione also got up but he stopped her.

"You," Tom said. "sit."

The seven other boys looked at her in silence before leaving the room. Hermione gulped and slowly sat back down. She felt scared at this moment, she had just heard Tom's speech and she had finally understood what being in his ranks meant. She felt the beginning of a headache. Tom was looking at her, simply looking. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes. None of them were talking, only staring.

"I do not care how you will find Avery's future replacement, I do not care which means you will use to find him, pictures, intel, blackmail, thievery, I do not want to know, but you will find him. And once you find him, you will crush him, make him ineligible." He said. His voice was low and threatening. "Am I clear ?"

"Are you expecting me to simply nod ?"

Tom slowly tilted his head and smirked. He could have looked angry if someone didn't know him. But he was far from it, he was challenged and he _liked_ it.

They were still looking at each other and Hermione heard loud and clear what Tom was silently asking her.

"Do you want to know what I thought about it ?" She finally asked him. They were both aware she was not talking about the Grindelwald situation nor the lads. They were both aware she was talking about Tom's speech. He didn't answer and she interpreted this silence as an approbation.

"Do you think they'll go as far as you're willing to go ?"

OoOoOo

16.11.1943 :

It had been a quiet night, the Great Hall had been relatively empty. Hermione was finishing her dinner with Thorus. It had been a long time since she had spent some alone time with him. Even though what happened a year ago with him, Hermione genuinely liked him. Thorus had a sharp mind and an impressive moral sense - considering the situation. She quickly looked around the room and saw Abraxas from afar, near the Ravenclaw table. He was talking to Romanolus Lovegood, just as Tom had ordered him a few days earlier. At the sight, Hermione remembered the conversation she had with Pollux during the team making for Cole's birthday. She had suggested putting the Ravenclaw in the same team as the Malfoy heir as she knew his father worked at the _Daily Prophet_.

Hermione then turned her head towards the entrance and saw Cole leaning against the door, in the middle of a conversation with Gemma Montague. She quickly wondered what they could be talking about before Thorus spoke up. "Well, I still have the runes essay to finish for tomorrow." The slytherin he rose from his seat. He shot her a small smile and left the dining hall. Hermione smiled back and went back to finishing her yogurt.

She heard loud steps coming her way and lifted her head to come face to face with a grinning Pollux. He put his right foot on the bench, his right arm on his knee. Hermione caught a glimpse of the childish watch she had offered him for his birthday.

"Follow me." He said. He was panting as if he had run down here.

"I'm eating Pollux."

"No Grace. I have something _amazing_ to show you. Follow me."

Pollux began bouncing from excitement. His cheeks were a little flushed and he was still trying to catch his breath.

"May I finish my yogurt at least ?" Hermione asked him.

"No, you may not."

Pollux climbed above the table to be on the same side as her and gently grabbed her arm to put her up. "You're gonna be amazed kiddo. I know it."

Without saying anything else, Hermione was following Pollux through Hogwarts' corridors. He was still grinning ears to ears and Hermione's heart clenched at the sight. She couldn't help herself but smile too. Pollux stopped in front of a classroom and dramatically opened the door. Hermione expected something special in the room. In the year of knowing Pollux, Hermione had come to always expect something spectacular from her friend. He was spontaneous, surprising. Yet, Hermione found herself in an empty classroom.

"I really am _amazed_ , Pollux." She smugly said. He hushed her and went to stand in the middle of the room. He mimed for her to stay silent and slowly rose his wand.

Hermione rose an eyebrow and crossed her arms, a small smile on her lips. Pollux exhaled loudly, closed his eyes, smiled, and spoke up. " _Expecto patronum_."

The grey mist escaping his wand slowly turned into a gracious fox. Hermione could only look at the animal parading around the round, jumping around. A grin slowly grew on her lips and an honest laugh escaped from them. Pollux directed his wand at her and the fox approached running. It turned around her, silently playing with Hermione. And she did too. She followed the patronus' movement and laughed at the visual representation of Pollux' soul. Because that is what it was : the bare soul of her friend welcoming her.

"You did it !" Hermione almost screamed from joy.

"Aren't you amazed now ?" Pollux replied. Hermione kept laughing and Pollux followed suit.

"So this is why I haven't seen you in days, Mister Parkinson." Hermione took a few steps towards her friend.

"Even more amazed, aren't you ?" Pollux grinned. "I don't think I've ever worked that hard on something before. I've come here every night for the last three weeks and practiced." Pollux was jumping around, excitement still running in his vein. "The hardest part was the memory. Which one ? Which one is powerful enough ?"

Hermione was simply looking at him. Pollux was rambling, the smile he had on his face and the sound of it in his voice brought warmth to Hermione's entire body.

"Then, I found it." Pollux kept talking. He finally stopped and faced her. Hermione was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to tell her the memory. "It's silly." Pollux shyly said.

He lowered his head and looked at his feet as if embarrassed. Hermione gently nudged him in the ribs and felt relieved as she heard a small laugh escape his lips. Pollux finally rose his head and gently smiled.

"I was ten if I remember correctly and he must have been eight." Pollux began explaining. "I don't even remember what we did but our parents were furious. They called us in the kitchen and began lecturing us. Then, I looked at him. He was maybe two inches smaller than me. And he looked back. And it was over. We just burst out laughing and we didn't stop. Cass was crying from laughter - it's the only time I ever saw him this way. My entire body was aching from laughing too."

As Pollux explained the memory, his gaze was stuck on something behind her in the room. The genuine smile he had a couple of minutes prior gave way to sadness. When he was done talking, he slowly shook his head and looked at her. "Silly you see." He gulped.

"It isn't." Hermione softly replied. "Actually, it's far from it. It's beautiful."

"I don't understand how this one works though. I mean, it's tarnished, isn't it ? I haven't spoken to my brother in weeks, I haven't had a smile directed at me in months and I haven't heard him laugh with me in years. It shouldn't work. It's not a happy memory. It's a melancholic one."

"We all have a different definition of what happiness is." Hermione said. "It could be something simple, something you didn't even think could be sorted as happy memory but the context around the memory makes it unique, special, positive. One could think of the feeling they got when chosen by their wand. One could think of their friends winning the quidditch cup. One could think of mundane moments with loved ones, laughing at something they don't even remember."

She stopped talking and considered telling Pollux hers.

Considered telling him about that night during their seventh-year, when they were on the run. Considered telling him that Ron had just left and they were scared. Considered telling him that at this moment she thought they would not make it, they would never find them. Considered telling him that they had stopped talking with Harry, they were in the same tent yet miles away. Considered telling him how lonely she felt. Considered telling him that they let the radio make the conversation for them. Considered telling him that on this night, the radio was playing a little bit louder than usual, and Harry had stretched out his hand in a silent plea. Considered telling him that she took it and that they danced, they laughed and they forgot where they were. Hermione really considered telling Pollux that during three little minutes, the world stopped and she had felt like being able to breathe for the first time in months.

Yet she didn't. It was hers and Harry's only.

OoOoOo

18.11.1943 :

The common room was fully packed on this November night. However, it was completely silent. Only the small sounds of the chimney broke this perfect studious atmosphere from time to time. Hermione was sitting on the floor, near the coffee table, and was skimming through a small pile of newspapers and other documents. The last meeting with the lads had brought her back to her task : finding Avery's replacement. Hermione had settled on looking through every piece of news available, hoping to find what she was looking for.

Not far from her, was Tom. Sat on the leather couch, reading - or pretending to read as his gaze was going back and forth between his reading material and Hermione. She knew for sure that he was not reading _The Republic_ by Plato, she had seen him charm another book to look like this one.

"Hey," she heard a small whisper behind her. Hermione quickly turned around and saw Cole standing behind the couch. "I need your help." Cole's eyes were on the common room's door and Hermione didn't fully understand what this entire situation was about. Before answering Cole, she briefly looked at Tom. He had this look on his face.

"I'm quite busy now Cole. Later though ?" Hermione finally answered.

"I really need your help Grace." Hermione was still looking through the newspapers too focused to do anything else. "I can't right now Cole."

"Fancy a bite ?" He said in a tight voice. At the words, Hermione's head snapped up and saw the look on her friend's face. She exhaled, closed her newspaper, and followed him out of the room.

 _Not again._

Pollux was slouched against the wall, his eyes almost completely closed. He reeked of alcohol and what seemed to be his own sick.

"Oh for fuck sakes." Cole exhaled and cast a _scourgify_ on his friend.

They knew the deal by now. They knew exactly what they had to do. Cole went by Pollux's left side and Hermione's by his right. They both put one of Pollux's arms around their shoulders and they slowly walked towards the kitchen.

"Kiddo." Pollux finally slurred. "we we-were waiting fo-for you."

"You know the deal Pollux," Cole whispered, "you stay quiet until we arrive in the kitchen, alright ?"

"You t-take such g-good care of me Cole." Pollux's voice was shy and pathetic. "I do-don't deserve you."

Hermione gently shushed him and looked at Cole. They didn't talk, but their expressions were meaningful. Cole tickled the pear and the three of them entered the kitchen. A small elf appeared in front of them.

"Master Woodcroft," the elf smiled, "what can I help you with ?"

"Good evening Zippy, would you be so kind as to make us sandwiches ? And some tea, maybe ?"

The elf quickly complied as Hermione and Cole gently put Pollux in the chair at the end of the table. Hermione sat at his right and Cole in front of her.

"What went through your mind to go to Abe's on a Thursday night ?" Hermione harshly whispered to Cole.

"I didn't want to go ! But you know as well as I do, he can't go to Hogsmeade alone !" Cole replied in the same tone.

"You could have stopped him from going to Hogsmeade. It's that simple Cole." Hermione knew it wasn't true, but seeing Pollux that way made her irrationally mad. Cole was about to shout back when the elf interrupted them and put a plate of sandwiches and cups of tea on the table. Pollux's eyes slowly opened at the smell and took a large bite of the sandwich. Hermione's face softened at the sight and exhaled before turning her gaze towards Cole again.

"I'm sorry." She said. "I shouldn't lash out at you."

Cole was massaging his eyes, apparently also fed up by the entire situation. Hermione wanted to smooth the frown he had between his eyebrows.

'I really try, you know." Cole replied in a hoarse voice, "I promise you, I try- it's hard but I truly do -"

"I know you do, and I see you do it too, Cole. Don't be too harsh on yourself, none of this is your fault."

"How can it not be my fault ?" Cole finally looked at her, his eyes a little glassy, and quickly averted his gaze to watch his best friend eat. The way Cole said it left Hermione wondering what was the underlying message. He seemed too guilty to simply have meant having a drink with Pollux on a Thursday night. Hermione knew that whatever she would say, Cole wouldn't believe her, so she simply took his hand and squeezed it lightly. She saw a small smile drawing on his lips.

An easy silence followed. Pollux had finished eating one sandwich and two cups of tea before slouching on the table and closing his eyes.

"Hey hey Pollux. Don't fall asleep here, you'll be way better in your bed, won't you ?" Cole talked to the drunken Slytherin in a soft voice.

Hermione didn't feel like coming back to the common room at this moment. She knew what was waiting for her back there, more pictures and pointless articles. Plus, she had always enjoyed spending time with Cole. And finally, Pollux was already asleep - sleeping another thirty minutes in this position would not hurt him more. She quickly looked around her and settled on something to say to linger in the kitchen.

"Have you eaten tonight, Cole ?" Hermione asked him. Cole turned in his chair to face her and realised the implication in the question. She slightly pushed the sandwiched plate towards him and shot him a soft smile to encourage him to eat. He nodded his head and let out a small laugh.

Pollux was soundly asleep next to her, his mouth agape. She gently stroked his hair.

"Let me guess," she said, "Cassandre ?"

"What else ?"

Cole quickly looked at Pollux. Hermione saw something in Cole's eyes as he watched his best friend sleep : pity ? sadness ? Cole began fidgeting on his chair and stared at his hands as if he was internally debating on speaking up or not.

"What has he told you ?" He finally asked her.

"Not so much. Bits by bits. They are from a pureblood family, meaning the heir is more important than the other child. At a certain age, Haurus Parkinson must have done or said something that created the existing cleavage between the two. Yet, I don't really understand why Cassandre is this jealous of Pollux ? He's clearly gonna do well in life. He's top of his class, prefect, likely to be Headboy. He doesn't need to be the heir to succeed."

Cole only nodded but it felt off. Hermione cocked her head and stared at him. "What are you not telling me ?" She added.

"Nothing." Cole quickly answered.

"Cole, tell me."

Cole looked at her and Hermione shivered at the sight. His eyes were dark and pleading her not to push the subject. She almost felt scared to ask but couldn't help herself. "What has he done that it's too much for you to tell me ?"

"He was drunk. I'm sure he wasn't even aware of half the things coming out of his mouth." Cole defended his friend before even telling her what happened.

"Cole, what happened ?" Hermione pressed.

"Cassandre was the one helping me sober up Pollux at the time. At the time, it was not that frequent and it was even funny at the beginning - we made fun of Pollux, teasing him about him being a lightweight. Of course, we didn't realise back then the amount of alcohol he was drinking." Cole stopped for a moment and looked at Pollux. "New years eve 1940, the Parkinson held a party at their house. Around 2AM Pollux was completely pissed and Cassandre helped me get him to his room."

Cole opened his mouth a couple of times, obviously trying to find the perfect formulation for what he was about to say.

"I was waiting outside his room, keeping watch just in case. I heard Cassandre pleading with Pollux to sleep and drink some water. And Pollux, he.. well he lashed out. I mean when you're drunk sometimes you say things who don't necessarily mean."

"What did he say Cole ? What did Pollux say ?"

"He told Cassandre that he was a nobody, that the only thing he was good at was to look after Pollux, as he was the one that really matters. That he would never be a prefect, never be top of his class, never be headboy." Cole let out a sad laugh as he said that. "He said that no one would ever choose Cassandre over him."

Hermione's hand stopped stroking Pollux hair and she carefully withdrew it. "He didn't mean it, right ?"

"Of course he didn't. He couldn't even remember anything the next morning. He still doesn't know."

"You didn't tell him ?"

Cole averted his eyes and gulped.

"Why ?" Hermione asked. "He's fucking himself up not knowing exactly when everything went south with Cassandre. You can tell him and you're fucking keeping that to yourself."

"You weren't there Grace. You didn't hear Pollux, you didn't see Cassandre's face. You don't know." Cole put his head in his hand and exhaled. "I can't tell him now, three years after. What would I even say ? I fucked up, I know. But you should have seen Pollux's face when he noticed that Cassandre wouldn't even look at him. I couldn't tell him that everything was his fault."

"Hey, hey." Hermione said in a soothing voice. She took hold of his wrists and put them back on the table before taking his hands. Cole looked at her and Hermione smiled.

"If I have to stand by his side while he gets drunk, drag him back to the castle, feed him, cast _scourgify_ on him, and put him to bed to make sure he's not alone. I'll do it. Over and over again." He said.

Hermione rose up and pulled at Cole's hands for him to stand up, too.

"You know what ?" She smiled. "Let's do something." Hermione quickly looked around her then grinned. "Have you ever cooked before Mister Woodcroft ?"

"I've boiled an egg once." He smugly answered. Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed. She pulled him towards the stove and began thinking about what they could cook.

"How about cannelés ?" She suggested. "Grab the flour and sugar." She ordered Cole as she went to fetch milk and eggs.

They began baking, Hermione showing Cole the right motions and laughing when he messed up. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with him. Hermione felt almost shy at this moment, blushing from time to time when Cole gently teased her. Everything Cole did towards her was basked in softness, something Hermione had not felt in a long time.

They talked about classes and Cole told her the funniest anecdote about what happened in Binns' class with Paul Diggory. They talked about what Cole wanted to do next year and joked about the fact that he hated Quidditch to his father's dismay. They talked about Gemma too, that they both realized they were not what they were looking for in a relationship. That Cole preferred someone more poised and that Gemma would rather date someone older. Hermione told him about her visit to Abe's the week before and what she was planning to get him for Christmas. She also spoke her mind about what she thought of Divination and Cole couldn't agree more. Finally, she told him about Draco Malfoy - without using his name.

"... I swear it's true !" Hermione laughed.

"You punched a guy ?" Cole grinned.

"I not only punched a guy, I broke his nose."

Cole leaned against the counter, a cannelé in hand, and looked at her. His laughter echoed in the kitchen.

"I need to see you punch a guy now Grace."

"I'm sure next time will happen soon enough." Hermione half-joked as she mimicked punching someone. Cole stopped her fist mid-air and turned it to have her palm facing up.

"That's how you break your thumb." He softly smiled. "If you want to punch someone, at least do it without hurting yourself."

Hermione positioned herself in front of Cole, putting her thumb out of her fist and bounced a little on her feet. "Like that ?" She smiled.

Cole pushed himself off the counter to stand in front of her. "Give me everything you've got."

Hermione weakly punched him as they both laughed out loud.

"That's all you've got ?" Cole teased her, an eyebrow cocked. They both froze for a second before he grabbed her by the waist to prevent her from punching him further. Hermione's laughter died the second the kitchen's doors opened.

* * *

18.11.1943 :

Tom was about to get back from his round when he heard some noise down the corridor. He quickly looked around him before heading toward the sounds. He saw from afar the entry to the kitchens and remembered Cole asking Grace about eating something. He tickled the pear and entered the room, finding himself transfixed on the spot at the sight before his eyes. Cole was carefully lowering Grace back onto the floor, they were both flushed and grinning while Pollux snored, slumped on the kitchen table.

"Tom !" Cole smiled at him. His demeanour was the polar opposite of Grace's at this moment. Cole was all smiley and friendly whereas Grace was embarrassed and wary. Tom didn't know what to make of this situation so he said the only thing running through his mind.

"What is wrong with Parkinson ?"

"He's a little sick, nothing to worry about." Cole quickly said, approaching his friend. "He's simply asleep."

His eyes flickered to Grace. She appeared flustered and ready to get out of this situation as soon as possible. Her eyes met his.

"I thought you would be working." Tom coldly told her. Grace squinted her eyes.

"I'm sure she can work tomorrow." Cole tried to joke to defuse the new tension. "We better head back to the common room, it's-"

"You should bring Pollux back to your dorm, Cole." Grace told her friend, without averting her gaze away from Tom for a second. Cole looked at her and quickly understood that something was up.

"Are you alright ?" He finally asked her. Grace finally tore his gaze away and looked right at him.

"I'm fine, Cole." She fake smiled. "It'll not take long."

"I'd rather walk you back." Cole insisted.

"She said she was fine." Tom spoke up. Cole faced Tom and frowned. He took a step forward, almost ready to snap back but Grace took him by the hand to prevent him from doing so. She settled between the two and faced Cole.

"Everything's fine." She softly told him. "I'll see you tomorrow. Breakfast ?"

Tom shouldn't be surprised by Grace's attitude towards Cole. He had seen the way she talked to him, the softness, and easiness in their relationship. However, this time he didn't like it.

Cole nodded at her and pulled Pollux up to leave the room. As they both walked out, Cole shot an icy look at Tom.

"Was that necessary ?" She scolded. Grace crossed her arms upon her chest and stood straighter. As she sensed Tom wasn't about to answer, she kept going. "I've told you I was working on it. And _you_ even told me you didn't care how I managed to complete the task."

"It sure looks like you are going to complete the task."

"What is wrong with you ?" She put her hands in her hair in exasperation.

Tom was simply angry. Only because Cole was ruining everything he had planned for and worked towards. How could he control Grace by flirting with her if she was already flirting with someone else ? It didn't sit well with Tom. He was convinced it was the only reason. The only reason why every time he saw Cole recently, something churned inside of him. And the only reason why when he saw Cole and Grace this evening, he was mad.

 _Cole is going to fuck all of my plans, Grace._

 _I cannot let him do that, right ?_

 _That is what is wrong with me._

"I'm leaving." Grace finally said. "I'm outta here. When you'll stop being petty, we'll talk again." She walked past him to reach the door. Tom snorted at her sentence.

"He only wants to get into your pants." He blurted out. She stopped in her tracks and Tom turned around to look at her. "He is only playing you, you know."

"You're the one to talk."

She violently shut the door behind her and Tom was left alone in the kitchens.

 _Why did I fucking say that ?_

OoOoOo

20.11.1943 :

Tom's stomach rumbled. He had not eaten anything more than an apple all day and he began to feel frail from hunger. He closed his book loudly and the sound echoed inside the large library. Dolohov, sitting in front of him, looked up. Tom only had to pick up his books for the other boy was already up and ready to leave. The walk to the Great Hall was silent and Tom appreciated that Dolohov didn't feel the need to talk.

Like every time he heard her voice - even though they weren't talking for two days now - Tom became alert. In the last couple of months, his attention had been slowly drifting towards Grace to the point of when she was near, he couldn't focus on anything else. He watched as she appeared around the corner, along Thorus and Silas.

 _They must have studied Runes together._

Nott was in the middle, laughing at something Silas had just said. Grace was silently nodding her head, a grin on her face. They seemed to get along quite well.

The five students almost got inside the Great Hall at the same time. As Silas parted ways with his two friends, Dolohov and Tom sat at their usual spot at the Slytherin table, joining the rest of the lads. Grace settled on sitting in front of Abraxas.

The atmosphere during the meals had settled back down since Grindelwald's article a couple a days before. At least, outside Tom's inner circle. He had some good feedback from Malfoy and Antonin. The latter had succeeded in getting closer to Diggory and building trust.

"Can I read it ?" She asked, her eyes pointing at the newspaper Malfoy was currently reading. "I was late this morning for breakfast and hadn't got the time to read it all day."

The blond silently gave it to her before turning back to eating his food. Grace's eyes skimmed through the content then froze at the bottom of the second page. For a good ten seconds, she didn't move, her eyes didn't tear away from the journal. Something was up. Something was wrong.

Grace finally closed the _Daily Prophet_ , shot a small glance at the professor table, and left abruptly the room, the newspaper under her arm. Tom's eyes followed her every moment, from the moment she closed it to the way she frantically put it underneath her left arm. Without any second thoughts, he followed her out of the room, barely noticing that Dolohov must have been intrigued as well and was only a couple of steps behind. Grace's steps were resonating through the deserted hallways, Tom could see her from afar climbing the stairs. She stopped on the third floor and entered Dumbledore's office without even knocking.

Tom turned around and finally noticed Dolohov's presence. He put a finger on his mouth and they slowly approached the half-open door, making sure of staying out of sight.

"Miss Hortense ?" Dumbledore seemed surprised to see Grace.

"Fifteen deaths in France." The other replied. Tom heard the sound of what could be the newspaper being violently thrown on top of Dumbledore's desk. "Twenty-three in Bulgaria. and seven in Italy." Grace kept enumerating. "And it's only today's newspapers. He isn't going to stop. You and I both know it. He's gonna keep going while no one stops him. You've seen what he wrote in the _Daily Prophet_ ! He is calling for a national insurrection. It's gonna be a bloodbath !"

"You are right Miss Hortense." Dumbledore calmly said. "It _is_ only today's newspapers. So why haven't you come to see me before ?"

Tom understood that the conversation was way more important than what he had thought at the beginning. This was the kind of conversation that no one other than the two participants was supposed to hear. From this moment on, Tom knew he would not fully understand the conversation taking place in front of his eyes for it was filled with underlying messages. Tom needed to see the scene. He slightly craned his neck forward to look inside the room. Dumbledore was still sitting at his desk and the small light of the candles cast odd shadows on his face. In front of him stood Grace, both of her palms lying flat on the wooden desk.

"You've lived many months in a war zone, Miss Hortense, you've seen things that a woman your age shouldn't see. You've learnt to see enemies everywhere and that's why you are here tonight. But you have a bright mind, you should realise that I am not the enemy here."

"If you're not the enemy, you are under no circumstances the ally." Grace said.

"And who are your allies then ?" Dumbledore asked her. "Your fellow classmates ?"

 _Your fellow classmates ?_

 _Are you talking about us, old man ?_

Grace snorted at Dumbledore. "You are one to talk about the company I keep when we both know who you-"

The transfiguration teacher jumped from his seat and slammed both of his hands on the desk. Grace startled and took a step back. Tom quickly looked at Dolohov and saw the other Sythering as shocked as he was. They had never seen Dumbledore lose his composure, he was almost frightening. Even though Grace was probably scared, she didn't show it. She held his gaze, jutting her chin even more.

'Enough !" Dumbledore growled. "I don't allow you to make these kinds of assumptions about me."

"I didn't allow you to rummage inside my head. Yet, here we are." She snapped back.

The silence following Grace's declaration brought a heavy tension upon the four people present. Dumbledore was still towering over her and Grace had not dropped her gaze since the beginning of the altercation.

"We are both aware that war calls for harsh decisions. I have made this one and I am still not sure if I regret it or not." Dumbledore's voice went from outraged to calm in a matter of seconds. Tom didn't quite understand what Dumbledore meant in his last sentence.

"We are both aw-" Grace started but Peeves hurtled in the corridor and cut short the conversation.

Tom grabbed Dolohov by the shoulders and hurried them down the stairs;

"What the fuck just happened ?" Antonin asked.

"I have no idea." Tom said.

Tom knew - at least thought he knew - what just happened. He had witnessed earlier in the year, in March, the beginning of an argument between the two.

" _ **Legilimency is illegal" She shouted.**_

" _ **Miss Hortense, listen…"**_

" _ **No ! You listen to me. You've been inside my head for two months. You had no right."**_

The conversation had also been cut short at this moment, Tom still behind the closed door at the time had suspected the use of a _Silencio_. So, Tom knew Dumbledore had used legilimency on Grace but he had never thought this through. But now Tom was really thinking about it and was starting to realise the impact it could have on him.

 _Fuck._

OoOoOo

22.11.1943 :

Most of the lads were lying on their beds, except for Abraxas and Thorus, playing exploding snaps on the floor of the dorm and Isodor reading a book not far. Tom was absently turning the page of _The Dark Force : A Guide to Self-Protection_ , too focused on his thought to assiduously pay attention to the manual.

"I don't think I can do it yet." Isodor spoke up. Tom rose his head and saw the boy lost in a thick book.

"It's not with this state of mind that you'll succeed." Abraxas snickered.

"By the way, have you seen Olive lately ? She's getting fit." Edmund interrupted.

"For you, everyone's fit." Edgard mocked. "But what's the deal with Grace and Cole ?"

"Yeah, I saw them yesterday. They looked pretty closed." Isodor snickered. Tom shoved the latter in the ribs with his foot. "Read your book Avery."

They hadn't talked in four days. Tom knew the lads were wondering what happened.

"She's fit after all." Edmund shrugged. He was lying flat on his stomach, re-reading the letter he was about to send his father about Rockwood.

"Once again, everyone is fit for you Rosier." Tom scolded. A silence settled in the room. All the lads didn't dare talk further about the subject, they knew something was wrong and they especially knew not to broach the subject with Tom.

"Anyway, I'm still waiting for the day Milton gets his first kiss." Antonin laughed. Milton reached for something to throw at his friend on the floor. He picked up a piece of paper, crumpled it, and tried to aim for Dolohov. However, the paper sadly landed on Tom's lap. The prefect took a good look at it.

"For Merlin's sale Mulciber, this is from Zabini." He reprimanded the small boy. He put the letter on his bedside table.

"I'm not going to succeed." Isodor whined. He closed his books and laid on the floor. Tom dropped his book on the latter's stomach. Isodor huffed and grabbed it.

"It helped me." Tom simply said. Isodor strangely looked at the book, _The Republic_ by Plato. "It is charmed to look that way Avery. Read the content."

* * *

23.11.1943 :

Hermione knocked twice on the door after dinner and nervously waited for someone to open. She was clutching at the letter her DADA professor had sent her earlier in the day. The door opened in a small crack and Atticus Aldritch hastened to let her in.

The room was warm and welcoming, surrounded by thick bookshelves and a large chimney at the back. Two love seats were facing, a small coffee table filled with drinks separated the two. Someone was standing in front of one of the bookshelf, his back to her.

"Thank you for inviting me here tonight, professor." Hermione smiled.

"It's my pleasure Grace." He offered her a drink she politely declined. "Let me introduce you to my dear friend."

Atticus gently pushed her towards the man. "Stilton, this is the student I talked to you about. Grace Hortense."

As the man turned around, Hermione froze. That was him. The man she had tried to find in pictures for months now. The man she was supposed to take down. The man after Isodor's father's job.

"Miss Hortense." Stilton wickedly grinned extending his hand. "Stilton Oswald, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise." Hermione answered uneasy and offered her hand. Oswald brought her hand to his lips, lingering more than necessary.

"Let's sit down." Aldritch offered. Hermione settled on one of the couches and Oswald sat in front of her.

"Let me tell you Grace, your pictures don't do you justice." Oswald smiled at her. Hermione knew that Stilton was an attractive man and he surely had his ways with women. He was slender, wearing a navy blue suit. His hair was styled back and he had a thin mustache just above his upper lip. He was undeniably attractive, however, Hermione had never been that uneasy regarding a compliment in her life. She could feel him shamelessly undressing her with his eyes. Aldritch finally sat next to her and she suddenly felt safer.

"So Grace, Stliton is the current English ambassador in France. I'm sure he can help you with your research." Atticus said.

Everything finally made sense as to why she couldn't find any article or picture of him in the newspapers. She was only looking in the British press, not the foreign one.

" _Je suis à votre entière disposition Mademoiselle Hortense_." Oswald spoke up in a perfect french.

The way he had said this sentence, the way he had emphasised his words made Hermione feel dirty. "I am at your disposal" he had said, however, Hermione had understood something else, something underlying. She awkwardly smiled and tried to discreetly lower her skirt on her knees. Stilton suddenly rose and went by the bar to pour two drinks. He came back to where Hermione was sitting and put the drink in her hands. She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her. " _J'insiste_."

"Let's toast." Oswald grinned, staring right at Hermione. She simply gulped.

OoOoOo

23.11.1943 :

Hermione had left a message for Tom to meet her on the bleachers. She was feeling hot and cold at the same time, pacing back and forth, feeling dirty from solely being in contact with Oswald. She put her coat closer around her body and kept looking around her to make sure no one was lurking. She was not feeling safe and she was secretly hoping for Tom to arrive quickly.

She finally heard footsteps and Hermione violently snapped her head up towards the stairs. Tom was slowly walking towards her, both of his hands in his trouser's front pocket. He had this smug expression on his face, the one she understood as his winning smile. Was he that full of himself to believe he had won their little argument ?

"You wanted to talk to me ?" He smugly said. Hermione forced herself not to roll her eyes at the tone. She wanted this to be over with, she only needed to take a shower and crawl into bed.

"Stilton Oswald. It's him." She told him.

"Pardon ?"

"Stilton Oswald is the one taking Avery's job. He is the current English ambassador in France."

"How do you know that ?" Tom leaned against the guardrail and frowned. He crossed his ankle and slightly cocked his head to look at her. The moonlight was soft on his face and even the scar - usually hardening his face - was giving him a gentle aura.

"I just met him." Hermione said, still slightly shaking from the said meeting. "He was there, gave me brandy ? I don't know, I've never tasted brandy before. Well, he forced it into my hand - I just took a sma-"

Tom cut her short by putting his hands on her shoulders and applied a small pressure. She rose her head to meet his gaze and saw his confused frown.

"Grace, focus. I cannot understand." Tom harshly pressed her. Hermione suddenly felt a heavy pain in her head and tried to ignore it.

"He's a close friend of Aldritch."

"You went to see him and Oswald was there ?" Tom interpreted as he leaned back against the guardrail, his hands falling at his side. "You are lucky Hortense." He snickered. "Never met someone that lucky before."

"Lucky ?" Hermione slowly repeated. "Do you really think I rely on luck ?" She squinted her eyes. "I did what I always do, Tom. I planned on Aldritch to tell me his name, never thought I would meet him though. Do you remember the first DADA class with Aldritch ?"

She waited for Tom to nod, which he did. "So you also remember when you almost ripped off my wrist underneath the table because I spoke back to him ? Was that luck or did I do it on purpose for him to ask me to stay after class ?" She almost let out a laugh. "We had a nice talk, he asked me about my expectation for my future career and I may have let out that I was interested in Magical Cooperation but that Avery senior was not that fond of me."

"You played him." Tom smirked.

"Of course I did, and it worked. He introduced me to the future Head of Magical Cooperation, Stilton Oswald."

"I am impressed, Grace." Tom acknowledged. Hermione smiled a little and tightened her coat even more. "What is wrong ?" He asked her, his brows furrowed and his eyes squinted.

"Nothing." She lied. She slowly closed her eyes as the headache intensified.

"Tell me."

The headache became almost unbearable. She suddenly stopped and froze.

"Get out of my head, Riddle."

* * *

23.11.1943 :

"Get out of my head, Riddle." Her voice was low and threatening. He was almost there, he could have felt it and suddenly he felt as if something pushed him out and he stumbled back. He had never succeeded in getting inside her head since he had begun in May. Yet, he had felt so close right now.

"Since when ?" She almost spat. "You're too good to have just started."

"May."

Grace looked lost, her gaze was unfocused as if she was trying to remember something.

"It was you. You tried to get inside my head in June. The day of Myrtle's death. You tried to get inside my head during transfiguration. I thought it was-"

"Dumbledore ? Yes, he was the one who gave me the idea actually." Tom finished her sentence. "He saw something in your mind back then and I was intrigued. I only had to learn to do it."

"Why the fuck now ? We're on the same side." Grace got angrier by the second.

"I need to know what Dumbledore could see. As you said, we are on the same side, and it means you witnessed things I do not need Dumbledore knowing about. If I can get inside and see, so can he." Tom explained as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Moreover, the lads' minds are quite boring."

Grace scoffed and took a step back. "Are you fucking kidding me ?" She almost yelled. Tom reconsidered his behaviour for a second. He had not thought this to be a big deal and he gave her quite the compliment in the end, her mind was surely far from boring. Yet, Grace was furiously pacing in front of him. Tom slowly realised he may have screwed up.

"Why are you so mad ? I did not even get inside." He said. She simply looked at him in disbelief. "I was simply intrigued. Intrigued to see what is inside your head, Grace."

"You want to see that bad what's inside my head ?" She took two steps forwards, almost breathing the same air as he was. "Let's see, shall we ?"

As she said those words, Tom felt it. The invitation to get inside. He simply closed his eyes and accepted it.

The first time he got into Thorus' mind, Tom was shocked to see every memory in perfect order. Almost compartmentalized in small boxes, ready to be taken apart. He had access to everything, he could choose what to open first, what to see, and in which order. His mind was clearly not the most entertaining, if not dull.

Isodor's mind, on the contrary, was the pure embodiment of a mess. It was like listening to several songs at the same time while watching five different movies. There were so many things, everywhere. Tom had no choice on what to look at. He saw the memories passing by and simply dove in.

This time though, he didn't get into her mind. No, she crashed into him.

It began with screams and spells coming from everywhere. Children crying and begging. Tom turned around and couldn't lay his eyes on anything, everything was bloodied and agonizing.

Then, he suddenly fell into ice-cold water, falling at full speed, feeling the pressure around his ears, and the beginning of tinnitus. He felt submerged by emotions and panicked from not understanding what was happening. His lung became hurting from the lack of oxygen. He kept falling further, into the darkness.

Then, he fell on the ground, apparently back to where he was before, in the middle of a battlefield. He still couldn't focus on anything even though he tried. He put his hands on his ears to stop the screams from bursting his eardrums. He felt the burn of the spells brushing against his body.

Then, the water again. He was lost, the silence of the water contrasting with the hustle of the previous flash. He was not falling this time, he was getting closer to the surface but felt as if he could never reach it alive.

Then, Tom felt his skin burning. He was surrounded by walls of fire, climbing up to the sky. The contrast with the cold he has just experienced made him feel lightheaded.

Then, he saw her. On her knees, clutching a lifeless hand, in the middle of a large corridor. She was as thin as the first time he saw her and wearing the same clothes. Tom approached and saw the way her knuckles turned white as she held the redhead's hand. She was silently crying, silently begging for this nightmare to stop when a hand grabbed her wrist to pull her up.

Yet, she felt down. She was not wearing the same clothes. She was laying on a marble floor. Tom could only focus on her facial expression. She bore none. Her face was blank as if devoid of any feelings and it was the most horrifying thing Tom ever saw. Grace had always something in her eyes. Yet, here she was lying, as if already dead.

Then, he felt aspirated and fell on the ground in an explosion. The ground shook below him and his ears began ringing. She was standing not far from him in front of a wall of debris, screaming the name of her late best friend Henry.

He closed his eyes and reopened them in a dark place. He was running and so was she. Often looking behind her. He felt her heartbeat in his ribcage, pounding. He felt the ways her legs were tired from the lack of sleep and malnutrition. Yet, she kept running and running until she was not. A purple spell illuminated the darkness. Tom turned around and saw her standing straight a few steps away. Her mouth was open and she contorted herself from the pain. Her white shirt slowly became crimson red. So was his. Suddenly, it was his heartbeat back in his ribcage and he was the one short of breath. He was the one contorting himself from the pain. The worst pain he had ever experienced.

Then, he was back into the battlefield. Tom gripped the wall beside him and tried to anchor himself. Everything was moving too fast. Everything was too loud, too bright.

Then, complete silence. Tom wondered for a moment if he had lost his hearing. But he heard his shallow breath and he felt himself moving slowly. He was holding a wand, the only source of light in this darkness. Next, the smell. It attacked him and made him gag. He lowered the wand and noticed that he was walking in a puddle of blood. It was the acrid smell of blood and cadavers. His feet suddenly stopped and lowered his wand towards a body. He didn't know this man yet he knew exactly who he was. Theodorus Hortense.

Then, she was bent over a body, her hands pressed onto an open wound. Blood spilling out. He heard small pleads behind him but couldn't look. Everywhere she put her hands on, more blood appeared. Tom felt the fear in his guts from losing someone she must have loved.

Then, he got back into the chaos. He bent as he felt spells shooting above him. He heard the piercing cry of a child and the screams of other students. He saw green, purple, red spurting from everywhere. He, once again, couldn't focus on anything, too overwhelmed by everything happening around him.

And then, he could only focus on her, laying on the marble floor again. She had not yet this haunted look on her face, she was simply scared. He heard the first crucio, followed by the antagonising sound of Grace screaming, screaming, _screaming_. And a second, and a third, and it simply never stopped. It went on and on. Tom lost track of time, the crucio resonated all around him so did Grace's screams for death.

Abruptly it stopped. A dark figure crouched down and without a warning pierced her left arm with what he imagined to be a knife. He almost begged to listen to the crucio again rather than to look at the scarification. Because he knew what was being written on her skin. Grace was trashing on the ground, begging the shadow to stop, begging for death to come even. Tom had the sudden urge to push the figure away but he couldn't move a finger.

A silence settled. A deafening one after hearing Grace scream for what felt like hours. She turned her head and looked him in the eyes. She opened her mouth and let out the first words he heard since the beginning. "Am I entertaining enough ?"

Tom was pushed away and he firmly gripped the guardrail behind him. He was catching his breath, his legs and mind were tired. He finally looked at her and she was looking at him with the same emotionless expression she was baring in the last memory. Tom tried to take hold of himself. Tom experienced death for the first time, he experienced drowning and a pain so sharp he felt he would die from it. He experienced death and was not willing to do it ever again.

 _Never_

"As you saw Tom, you have nothing to worry about." Grace spoke up. "I have way worse to show than you standing above the body of Myrtle Warren."

Tom was now standing straight, looking right at her. He was supposed to be horrified by what he just witnessed. He was supposed to feel sick from the images still flashing through his mind. Tom knew she was manipulative and cunning, always a step ahead of everyone and sometimes even himself.

Still, he felt like meeting her for the first time on this night for she was not a flame as he thought at the beginning but an entire wildfire. And he was basking in her blazing heat.

He looked at the scar on her neck. He must have looked at it hundreds of times yet he truly saw it for the first time. The scar he knew she bore below her coat, the one the purple spell carved, the one he felt and bled through his shirt was right there. And he felt the sudden urge to touch it. She was standing in front of him in all of her glory and she was magnificent.

"I once thought there was no glory in surviving." He said as he lit a cigarette, still unable to take his eyes off of her. She went by his side and leaned against it too, yet her elbows on the guardrail, facing the field. He didn't have to finish his sentence, he knew she understood as he turned his head to keep looking into her eyes.

Tom took a long drag from the cigarette and for the first time willingly offered it to her. "What are we going to do about Oswald then?" He asked.

"What am _I_ going to do about him ?" She reformulated and took the fag. Tom watched her as she inhaled, bent her head backward, and exhaled the white smoke into the dark sky.

* * *

 **Authors' Note :** Sorry for the little delay - to reassure ourselves we say that we've done worst with the six months hiatus :)

But the finals are over so we're officially on holidays - we do hope it means we're gonna write a lot.

Actually, we have been waiting a YEAR for the next four chapters. We are so excited to write them - we've been listening on loop for a year to the four songs corresponding to each chapter. Yes, we're really excited.

We're living for your reviews - they are all amazing and we don't know how to thank you enough for the time you spend reading and reviewing. We love them so much

By the way, the amazing AnnaCifer made a Spotify playlist with all the songs (and some we've used while writing) : playlist/0OONyzCzrWMmMUTjp3M4MI?si=-9i0C4yeQtqp4LM2xs1Hfw

Lots of love,

-DDM's Managers


	18. VOYOUS

" **Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

 **CHAPTER EIGHTEEN : VOYOUS**

* * *

 _Song : Voyous by Fauve_

26.11.1943 :

"What about pictures ?" Isodor suggested. "Everyone has dirty secrets and each politician has at least unveiled one with a camera rolling not far."

"Right, Lestrange ?" Tom intervened from the end of the table. He had the smallest smirk on his lips. Edgard didn't bother retorting and simply slouched further down his chair.

"Not pictures again." Antonin growled. "If Grace is in charge of it, she'll take six months again."

Hermione knew this blow was coming, from the moment the word "pictures" blurted out of Isodor's mouth. She simply counted to ten in her head and exhaled to calm herself. The clock on the chimney rang three in the afternoon, reminding all of them of their potion class with Slughorn.

Hermione cleared her throat and simply declared. "How about you let me handle it ? I am the one in contact with Oswald, I am the one who's been asked to take care of him." A silence followed her declaration and the seven lads turned around to face Tom, patiently waiting for him to say something. The latter simply got up and said. "Well, you have heard her." The lads first left the room to go to the dungeons. Tom waited for her by the door as she gathered her belongings. As usual, when she walked passed him to leave the room he put his hand on her lower back and followed her outside.

They quickly joined the lads. Isodor was already whining about not understanding the assignment they had to do for today's potion class. Hermione just nodded and sometimes hummed to feign being interested.

"Kiddo !" The loud voice of Pollux made her head snap up and a large grin bloomed on her face. He was walking towards her, Cole by his side. "Where were you ? We've been looking for you. McNair told us you had a free period." He said when he arrived at her level. Hermione glanced at Cole and saw the shy smile he had while looking at her. She replied with one of her own.

"I was working on some assignments." She replied, the lie easy on the lips. Pollux rolled his eyes and put an arm around her shoulders to walk her down to the dungeons.

"You're a lucky gal kiddo, did you know that ?" Parkinson smugly said. "Besides having me as a friend, which I bet you thank Merlin everyday for, today's is a lucky day for you."

"What is he on about ?" Hermione directly asked Cole, not even bothering to understand Pollux anymore.

"I tune him off most of the time Grace, you can't expect me to listen to him when it's not directed right at me." Woodcroft rolled his eyes and let out a small laugh.

"I would have imagined him taller though. And much older." Pollux continued talking. Hermione saw, from afar, the potion room and finally decided on asking Pollux what the hell he was talking about. "Use clear words Pollux."

"Wait, you don't know ?" They stopped in front of the room and Pollux's grin became even wicker. "Enjoy then." He gently pushed her inside before asking her to meet with them after.

The class was usually arranged with cauldrons and ingredients for the students to start brewing immediately. However, today was different. First, the desks were bare and well organized around the room. Second, her individual desk at the front of the room was not longer there but replaced by a large blackboard. Hermione looked around the room and noticed Belone waving. She approached and sat down next to her friend. Slughorn walked into the room and Hermione caught a glimpse of two men standing by the door. One she recognized being Albus Dumbledore from his profile and the other one not being able to identify as he had his back turned to her. Her transfiguration teacher briefly scanned the room and his piercing blue eyes lingered slightly longer on her. Hermione felt her heartbeat quicken in her ribcage. She suddenly had a bad feeling about what was going to happen. She looked around her and saw no one sharing her distress, only whispering as usual.

"Welcome everyone !" Slughorn smiled. "Please take a seat." He waited for the students' chatter to die down before continuing. "Today we have the honour to have one of the most brilliant wizards of our time with us today. Nicolas Flamel-"

The world stopped.

 _No._

Hermione felt light headed and her heartbeat became frantic.

"...five years secluded from the world for his famous researches on-"

 _No, no, no, no._

She wondered if she was about to throw up or faint first. She was completely fucked. So fucked. Her eyes went back and forth between all the possible escapes. The front door : not possible. The back door : maybe if she ran fast enough and cast the spells quickly enough. She could maybe stunt Slughorn quite easily if he kept talking but she couldn't handle Dumbledore. An invisible spell on herself maybe ?

 _No, too easy to counter-spell._

"Nicolas Flamel is here to tell you a bit more about Alchemy. You can ask him any que-"

 _Nicolas Flamel, a close friend to the Hortense family, is going to call you out._

 _You've survived Riddle so far._

 _You've survived Dumbledore so far._

 _But you're done Hermione._

Her eyes were stinging from the tears that were about to fall down her cheeks. She put her right hand just above her holster, ready to use it.

 _One year, it was a good run, one year._

 _You've done good Hermione. You've tried hard._

She was shaking and sweating from the stress.

 _You've done your best Hermione. You've not let anyone down._

She repeated the plan in her head - if casting spells and running away for dear life could be considered a plan. She almost got up twice, her legs twitching underneath the table. She wiped off the sweat from her forehead with a shaky hand and told herself that she would do it. Get up and run, that is.

 _You could go to Abe's._

 _He knows everything. He'll help you, right ?_

Hermione had no choice but to quickly stand up as Dumbledore and Flamel entered the room. Everyone looked at her, as she stood straight, her entire body shaking and her eyes glassy from the tears. In half a second, her plan fell apart. She couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't breathe. Flamel slowly approached her, looking right into her eyes. He stopped four feet away and they just stared.

Everything stilled. Hermione held her breath. She kept her gaze on him. And she waited. A first tear rolled down her cheeks, then a second and a third. Silently escaping her eyes without letting any sound out.

"Grace," He smiled. "I have heard about your parents, I am deeply sorry." He said. Hermione didn't understand what just happened. Flamel closed the distance and took her in his arms. She was still frozen on the spot, the tears still silently rolling down her cheeks. The stress slowly rolled off of her.

OoOoOo

Hermione didn't know how many minutes passed since Flamel began holding her, but she suddenly felt the warmth of his embrace fading away. He had simply put his hands on her shoulders and was looking into her teary eyes.

She was sitting on a leather chair, her legs frantically jumping. She had stood up and sat back down almost a hundred times by now. Slughorn had brought her to his office while the other remained in class. She knew Nicolas Flamel would come sooner or later.

 _He thought you were Grace._

 _What if he doesn't remember her ?_

 _After all, he's been secluded for five years._

She quickly nodded her head, responding to her own thoughts. She didn't have to answer any question he might ask. She could feign being tired or too emotional to speak.

 _You can definitely do that._

 _You cried back there. They must have all thought you were emotional._

 _That's good, right ?_

She quickly looked at the door. Maybe she could still escape. It wasn't too late, was it ? No one was around, no one would see her run away. She could go to Hogsmeade and apparate somewhere. Hermione stood up once again, determined to leave this room and the lies she had been creating for more than a year when the door to Slughorn's office opened and Nicolas Flamel stepped in.

He was alone. He closed the door and stood straight. There was a minute of silence, of only him looking at her and Hermione silently dying from fear. The silence was becoming heavier by the second and she felt the need to talk, to lie, to let something out.

" _Je m'excuse-_ " She started with a quivering voice.

"You and I both know you are not Grace. Let's not waste time pretending, shall we Hermione ?" He cut her off while casting what she believed to be a _silencio_.

Hermione audibly gulped. She was suddenly feeling hot and cold at the same time. Her eyes flickered between Flamel and the wooden door behind him. Usually, Hermione was no coward. She had not the habit of running away from her problems, hoping for them to be magically resolved. But maybe this was the time to change that. She was utterly fucked and she had never felt so scared. Nicolas Flamel didn't only know she was not Grace but knew who she truly was. She couldn't lie her way out of here.

"How ?" She whispered, too shaken up to speak up properly. He put his wand by his head and slightly patted his temple.

Hermione directly understood what he meant. He had got inside her head, and for once she had not felt it. She had not had a headache nor felt like someone was intruding her mind. Nothing happened and she wondered how. She had shown Tom that she was in complete control of what anyone could see inside her head yet, Nicolas Flamel just proved her wrong. He had seen _everything_ , he had surely understood the majority of what happened to her.

"Why ?" She asked.

"Why did I call you Grace back there ?" He cocked his head with a small smile. She nodded, afraid of the answer. "I believe you are just a lost girl trying to find her way back. There is nothing wrong with wanting to go home."

"You've seen what I've done. What I've done to Grace." Hermione replied in a small voice. "How can you say there is nothing wrong ?"

"Yes, I have seen." Nicolas replied in a soft voice. He slowly walked towards a chair and sat down with small difficulty. He gently patted the chair next to his for Hermione to sit down with him. She complied. "And I have seen some good. You have taken care of her parents' funeral. You have taken care of Dahlia until her last breath, you have-"

"And what about _him_ ?" She cut him off. "Are you going to tell me I'm doing the right thing too ? It's as if I've opened the Chamber of Secret myself and killed Myrtle Warren. I've given him everything for him to succeed. And I'm still doing it." Hermione stood up and began pacing in front of the fireplace. "I'm literally in his _ranks_ , I know everything he is about to do and I am helping him do so. I'm helping him ruin my entire life ! " Anger was rising in her guts so she stopped talking, to calm herself down.

"I know what you must be thinking. I chose it, right ? I could have just avoided him and tried to find my way back home another way. But I had no choice. I've done the maths, it was the only way." Flamel was patiently listening to her, his eyes were kind and not judgmental, so Hermione kept going. The words were freely coming out of her mouth and it almost felt good to speak out loud about all of that. Almost. "I could have gone to Dumbledore. You know, I thought about it after the Chamber of Secrets. When I realised that my only way back home was nonexistent. I really thought about it."

"Yet, you didn't. Why ?" Hermione had not expected Flamel to ask that. She faced him and stayed silent for a while, in order to gather her thoughts. She briefly wondered about the extent of what Flamel had seen earlier.

"He sent us on a quest that made no sense, with no clue on how to proceed, with no explanation." She said. "He let us deal with everything on our own since we were only kids. We risked our lives everyday and for what ? We don't even know ! And now ? Now I'm alone, stranded in an era I don't belong in, playing politics I shouldn't be involved in, yet I should go talk to the person who's done nothing to help in the future ? How could I trust someone who fooled me for years ?" She almost spat.

"I hear you, Hermione." He replied in a calm voice. "I understand your anger from what I have briefly seen in your mind, the despair, the loneliness, the fear you have felt during those times. However, don't you think your anger is fuelled by the fact that the last thing you have heard in your own time was that Albus had fooled your best friend ?"

"It has nothing to do with that." Hermione tried to sound convincing but it fell flat. It had everything to do with that, she was simply in denial. She didn't want to talk further about that so she changed the subject. "Why are you really here ?"

"You are smart enough to understand that my real purpose today was not to talk to students about alchemy, right ?" Hermione nodded her head. "Apparently, something _didn't add up._ "

 _This is what Dumbledore had told you about your behaviour._

"He has seen something in my mind." Hermione said. "I don't know what, but this is why you are here today. He called you to check." Flamel didn't answer and Hermione knew she was right. "What has he seen for you to be called ?"

"My philosopher's stone." He replied honestly.

"I've never seen it." Hermione frowned because she couldn't understand.

"You have never held it ?" Flamel seemed as lost as she was at this moment.

"No, never. I-" Hermione stopped and thought about it. "Harry was the only one who's ever seen it and touched it. He-" She finally understood. "It was his memory. Professor Dumbledore saw Harry's memory."

She remembered that day. It was the middle of fifth-year, Harry had been struggling with keeping his mind closed. He had stormed into the Gryffindor common room one evening, after another session with Snape. Harry had sat down next to her and complained about the fact that he would never succeed. Hermione, at the time, had got interested in occlumency and she had offered Harry her help. They had gone to his dorms, Ron eating on his bed, and Hermione facing Harry, her wand at the ready.

She had not stayed inside his head for a long time, she was not particularly gifted in legilimency. But she has seen some things. She had seen herself and Ron during their first train ride to Hogwarts. She had seen the first time Harry flew on a broom. And she had seen him looking directly at the philosopher's stone in his hand.

"In the six hundred years I have lived, I have never seen anything like that. _Une voyageuse du temps_."

 _Time traveler._

 _Yes, that is what you are._

Hermione trusted him, she wasn't sure why but she did. He was reassuring and understanding. He had not judged her, he had tried to understand. He was currently softly looking at her, a display of honesty and fondness in his eyes.

"Why have you stopped ?" He asked her.

"Stopped what ?"

"Stopped trying to go home ?"

"I- uh- I haven't." Hermione stuttered.

"Yes, you have. You were stalling time in the beginning when you didn't find the painting. But you are not anymore, you are only wasting your time. Why have you stopped trying to find it ?"

Hermione felt like crying again because Flamel had just said out loud what she had been trying to deny for months.

"I've read millions of books," she answered in a shay voice, "all the studies about time travel, and I haven't found anything. I'm stuck here, I'm finally realising it." Hermione felt the tears glistening in her eyes. She was, once again, confronted with the fact that she had no way of going back. She pulled at her hair and turned away from him. She focused on her breathing and on not panicking. "There is no painting, there never was ! It doesn't exist !

" _Yet_."

Hermione spun around and stared at Flamel. He had a small smile on his lips and she suddenly felt hope bloom back inside of her. It was warm and welcoming.

"There are different ways to solve a problem. You have only taken one possibility into consideration, that the painting was already existing in this era. For all we know, it might not be the case." Flamel finally slowly stood up. Hermione approached him. Together, they went by the door. Flamel put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You ought to explore every possibility there might be." Hermione let the words sink in. "I may have some reading recommendations for you. I understood that you have a close relationship with another Dumbledore in Hogsmeade. I will make sure to send him the books I think to be useful." He offered and Hermione nodded eagerly.

"What will you tell Professor Dumbledore ?" Hermione asked.

"Your story is not mine to tell." He explained. She smiled. "I could maybe slip that Grace may have seen my stone back when she went to visit me with her parents a couple a years ago, what do you think ?"

Hermione simply smiled.

* * *

26.11.1943 :

Since the potion lesson, Tom had not seen Grace. She had not shown up in Charms later that afternoon, neither at dinner. Apparently, Thorus had briefly met with her. He currently was telling the lads what she said.

"She told me it was emotional seeing him after all this time." Nott explained, cross-sitting on his bed. "They talked about some common memories and stuff."

"It was weird seeing her like that." Edgard chipped in. "I've never seen her cry before."

The lads kept talking about the subject while Tom deliberately didn't speak up. He didn't quite know what he was thinking about what he had seen this afternoon. He had never seen her that way, distraught, almost scared. It was out of character for her. So he simply looked around the room, his eyes landing on each lad.

Milton was writing his transfiguration on the floor. He was looking quite concentrated on what Tom knew would be one of the worst essays in the class. Edmund was debating with Edgard about what Grace and Nicolas Flamel must have talked about, the two boys sitting on the same bed. Antonin couldn't have looked more bored than he actually was, he had not raised his eyes from his book since this conversation started. However, if Tom paid enough attention, he could notice Dolohov's eyes flickering from his book to the two Quidditch players. Obviously listening to what they were saying. Isodor was focused on the book Tom had lent him earlier in the week, silently rehearsing a spell and the wand movement.

Finally, Tom's gaze fell on Abraxas. He was sitting on the windowsill, the darkness of the black lake behind his back. He had one leg dangling and the other one bent towards his chest. He had a letter on his knee and he was reading it, a small frown between his eyebrows. He also had an unlit cigarette between his lips, one he was planning to sneak outside to smoke later. Then, the blond Slytherin met his gaze. He jumped off the window and walked towards him.

"It's set in motion. We cannot back down now." He said to Tom, in gritted teeth, while handing him the letter. Tom took it with a little satisfying smirk.

* * *

01.12.1943 :

Hermione had been quite surprised that Tom had not tried to find out what happened with Flamel. He had not broached the subject once. She quickly looked at him, across from her at the breakfast table. He was talking with Thorus about something Astronomy related. The usual sound of the owls made them stop the conversation and look up to the ceiling. Hermione noticed Kaulitz flying her way and dropping a small envelope near her plate. She didn't recognize the writing, so she carefully opened it, making sure no one could read above her shoulder.

The first sentence of the letter informed her that it was from Nicolas Flamel and that he had sent two books for her to pick up at Abe's. She quickly folded the letter and put it in her pocket.

Pollux, not far from where she was sitting, had a weird look on his face. His eyes were rapidly skimming through the content of his letter and he suddenly turned his head to look at his younger brother. Cassandre was casually chatting with some fifth-year Slytherin a few meters down the table. Pollux rose and put his tie back correctly. Hermione frowned at the sight, on top of being properly dressed he had this stoic look on his face. He looked more mature than ever. Cole, who had been reading Pollux's letter over his shoulder, was the opposite of his friend at this moment. He was looking frantic, glancing from time to time to Cassandre.

Pollux was about to walk towards his brother when Cole stopped him by the arm and loudly whispered to him not to do that now.

 _What is going on ?_

 _What is happening ?_

No one seemed to have noticed, everyone was still eating and talking. Pollux shrugged Cole's off and went by Cassandre's side. He dropped the letter on his brother's lap. While the youngest Parkinson was reading, Pollux was looking right at him. Hermione couldn't tear her gaze away from him, she still couldn't believe she was looking at her friend, he seemed so off. Then, she lowered her gaze towards his brother. Cassandre's eyes slowly widened and his grip tightened on the thin paper only to rip it in half and stood to face Pollux. The two brothers were gradually drawing attention to them. The lads around Hermione had all stopped talking by now and were looking at them.

"Tell me this is a joke." Cassandre called out to his brother, shoving the pieces of paper in the other's chest. Pollux didn't bother grabbing them and let them float towards the ground.

"You're well aware we don't joke about this kind of subject." Pollux replied. Hermione felt a shiver down her spine at the stone-cold and emotionless tone Pollux just used.

"Why are you the one receiving it ?" Cassandre kept his voice dangerously low. "Why are you the one receiving my official betrothal ?"

Pollux's jaw was tensing and his eyes became even darker. "You had your say in this, didn't you ?" Cassandre's eyes betrayed every emotion he felt. It was raw and broken. Pollux stayed silent. "How long have you been planning this behind my back ?" Cassandre was slowly raising his voice as the Great Hall became quieter. "Answer me !" He finally shouted.

The silence following the shouting was deafening. No one dared talk. No one dared move. They were all mesmerized by what was happening before their eyes. Hermione included. Pollux's lack of an answer was enough for Cassandre to understand perfectly that he had indeed a say in whatever this was.

"Don't make a scene Cassandre." Pollux growled. "You're a Parkinson for fuck sakes, act like it."

"When ?" Cassandre didn't lower his voice. "Since when have you all been planning this ?"

"Two years." Pollux answered, his voice firm.

"Two years ?" Cassandre repeated flabbergasted. "Was _she_ even considered ?"

Hermione's eyes snapped towards Walburga. She was looking right at Pollux, seemingly as interested in his answer as Cassandre was.

"This is not the issue." Pollux said. "You'll marry Rowle. You've read Father's letter, you've seen the official signature at the bottom. It's done Cassandre."

"Why haven't you fought for me ?" Cassandre implored his brother. "Why haven't you stood up to father for once ? Wh-"

"Stop Cassandre." Pollux snapped.

"Why can't you do something for me ?"

"I said stop." Pollux patience obviously wearing thin.

"I don-"

"I took the decision !" Pollux yelled, not breaking the emotionless character he was in.

Cassandre took a step back and gripped the table behind him. Hermione slowly felt her heart breaking as she watched Cassandre's face fading from anger to devastated. His eyes were still stuck on his brother, bearing all the pain he was currently feeling. Cassandre opened his mouth, surely to snap back, but nothing came out. He had been left speechless. Hermione had never been fond of Cassandre, yet at this moment she had the yearning of protecting him. She quickly went back to Pollux, she felt as if seeing him for the first time. Not the quirky friend she used to see, but the cold, haughty heir to the Parkinson family.

"She wasn't right for us." Pollux kept going. "We would have gained nothing from this alliance."

"Did you receive a formal proposal from the Blacks ?" Cassandre's voice was barely there, if Hermione was not sitting a few feet away she would have not heard.

"The Rowles share our vision. We, the Parkinson, will thrive from this alliance."

"Answer me, Pollux."

"It wouldn't have been the right alliance for us."

"It's not an alliance Pollux, it's my fucking wedding, _my_ life !" Cassandre went back to yelling.

"It's not against you Cassandre, it's only politics."

OoOoOo

01.01.12 :

Hermione just finished two hours of theoretical DADA. She was walking down the corridors with the lads towards their next class. After this morning's drama, both Parkison had stormed off the Great Hall and Pollux had not been seen since. Cole had also been looking for him all morning. The corridors were quite busy on this December morning, she was zigzagging among the crowd of students while talking to Edgard. They all turned into an empty corridor and the chatter from the children slowly faded away. Then, she caught a glimpse of him. He was slowly walking, one hand pressed against the wall to help with his swaying.

"Pollux." She called him. He rose his head, his eyes were bleary and red. He seemed to struggle to recognize who she was. When he finally did, he turned around.

Hermione went towards him when Tom grabbed her by the wrist.

"Don't." He said to her. "He is clearly wasted. Nothing good will come out of this."

"He's my friend, Tom."

She stopped a young Slytherin passing by and asked him to go rapidly fetch Cole. The lads stopped altogether and watched from afar as Hermione approached the oldest Parkinson.

"Hey Pollux." She used the softest voice when addressing her friend. "Let's get something to eat down in the kitchen." She went to put her arm under his waist to help him walk but he simply shoved her away. Hermione saw from the corner of her eyes Tom taking a step towards but being stopped by Antonin to approach even more.

Hermione swallowed and tried again. "Pollux, come on. Cole will arrive soon. Everything's going to be alright." Pollux was still not looking at her nor talking. He reeked of cheap alcohol and cigarettes. "We can go to Abe's." Hermione suggested. "He's always happy to see us, and it's been a while." She tried to laugh to bring a small smile to Pollux' face. She approached once more and put a reassuring hand in his shoulder.

"Fuck off !" He drunkenly shouted. "Get lost !" He pushed her away.

Hermione was lost at words, he had never pushed her away, he had never been physical with her. She noticed the students walking particularly slow at the end of the corridor, almost stopping to look at the scene. Hermione quickly looked back and saw the lads staying not far.

"Pollux," she whispered "stop. You're making a scene and I know you don't want to make a scene."

"P-Piss off Grace." Pollux stopped and stood straighter. He looked around him and noticed the lads staring at him. "Haven't you seen enough this morning?" He yelled at the eight faces staring at him. He then looked at her. He was looking down on her, a sneer slowly growing on his face. He must have seen the shock in her eyes, the rejection. "Stop l-looking at me that way. Have you heard n-nothing ?"

"It doesn't matter Pollux." She tried to calm him down. "I'm your friend and am telling you it's going to be alright."

"Don't you understand ?" He spat. Hermione felt something pooling in her guts, something bad. Pollux had something in his eyes like he was about to latch out. "How must I say it so you might understand !" He kept going, swaying on his feet. Hermione ran at his side to keep him standing when he ducked her embrace. "Listen you fuckhead : I'm not a nice person, I'm not a beautiful person. I'm a dirty beast, a gas bottle in a chimney. And I will end up blowing at your face if you come too close, j-just like the others !"

Hermione didn't know what to do, she felt the despair in Pollux's head. "It's the alcohol talking. You're upset about what happened this morning, I understand. You always bounce back Pollux. You can mend things with Cassa-"

"But you don't know what you are saying. I tried to, it never worked !" Pollux was obviously struggling to get the words out of his mouth. He was slurring and trying to stand up straight.

"You all want me to change. But I won't." He kept going. "And even if I did, there is no second chance. There are no clean slates. Don't act like you haven't seen it, have you not noticed?"

Hermione was not sure what point he was trying to make.

"It's plastered all over : on every newspaper where people can see it ! On people's faces ! It is even written in bold letters on the sides of buildings at night when good people like you are asleep." Pollux spat the last sentence. "It-it's marked red : you were born like that, you live like that, and you die like that. Your naked reflection is the only thing that can disgust you, your guilt and despair for only witnesses."

"What are you talking about Pollux ?" Hermione tried to understand. "You're making no sense. Let's continue this conversation somewhere more private."

"Believe me, you don't want me to continue !" He sadly snorted. "B-because at best, it'll prevent you from sleeping and at worst, it'll make you want to spit at my face." He briefly stopped and looked at her. His eyes slowly turned sad. "Before I once again transform myself, run away from me Grace."

She quickly looked behind her towards the lads and saw the same incomprehension on their faces. Pollux's train of thoughts, surely clear to him, made very little sense to anyone sober. She turned her head to look at him. Hermione had never heard someone this broken, this ashamed of himself before. She took a small step back, taken aback. Suddenly, Tom arrived by her side.

"Quit it Parkinson." Tom ordered. "You are getting back to the common room, you will drink water and sleep off. If you keep screaming that way, teachers are going to turn up. "

"Ow ! I'm sorry, do you want me to lower my voice ?" Pollux mocked the prefect. "Am I bothering you ? Fuck you then. If I'm bothering you, either get lost or shut your fucking mouth !"

Hermione felt Tom's anger rolling off of him. She put herself in between the two to avoid any physical confrontation. Tom's jaw was clenched and he was internally fuming. At the sight, Pollux simply laughed. "What ? Does it bother you to being talked to that way in front of everyone ? Yeah, it sucks ! I understand mate."

Hermione faced Tom and put a hand on his chest to keep him at bay. She slowly shook her head no, almost pleading him not to do anything. She then spun around. "You're going too far, Pollux. You're ridiculizing yourself, you're transmitting your problems to everyone."

"Easy for you to say. You, who don't have any problems." He scoffed. Hermione almost laughed out of spite. "You were raised well as it should, you're strong, you're consistent, you don't make people uncomfortable in hallways ! You sleep well, words don't bother you. You are a good French, you're beautiful, and you're healthy. Just like a fashion magazine, or a model home. These things don't happen to you, do they ? You can't understand me."

If the prior silence was heavy, the one following this monologue was even worse. She swallowed and closed her eyes to prevent the tears from forming in her eyes. She tried to find sense in everything, he was not believing the words, right ? He was only wasted.

"You don't know what you're saying." She said, her voice slightly quivering. "You're just mad because of what happened with Cassandre. You're just latching out. But you need to calm down Pollux."

Pollux shook his head no like a small child when he heard the name Cassandre. He took steps back until his back collided with the wall. Hermione wanted to get closer but Tom took her wrist to stop her from approaching.

"No, I won't calm down !" Pollux finally said. "I won't calm down !" He repeated, his voice a little louder. " _He_ doesn't know what it is to be a beggar. To be lousy, to be filthy, to be a fucking puppet for our own father ! To be the land where moral and duty collides. He doesn't know what it is !"

Pollux then looked at his hand as if they were bloodied from a horrifying murder. His anger faded away to completely disappear. He was simply pathetic, heartbroken, and silently sobbing. He rose his chin and Hermione caught a glimpse of his teary eyes and couldn't help but feel the hopelessness. The tears finally rolled down her cheeks at the scene.

"I don't understand, I haven't robbed anybody, killed anybody. But I am still an arshole, that's this simple." Pollux's voice was hoarse from the yelling and broken from the sobs. "I've done things I regret, enough to think about them all the time. I could give you a million reasons, Grace, for him to hate me, break my knees, and ridicule me. And if one day Cassandre comes for me, I won't resist. I'll place my hands on my head and follow without haste. But before that happens, I want him to know that I understand." Pollux stumbled onto the floor, his eyes stuck on the ground.

Hermione shook her hand for Tom to let her go and crouched down in front of him. She gently put her hand on his shoulders.

"Just come with me." She tenderly murmured.

"No, no. Leave me alone, please." Pollux had closed his eyes now and had let his head rest on the wall behind him. He was talking extremely slowly. "I don't want to go, I don't want to move, I don't want to sleep."

"Talk to me then, what do you need ?"

"I don't want to talk today. Today, I just want to scream. I want to open the gates, you know ? To let everything out ! I want to scream my fear of abandonment, and my frantic search for attention, my need for recognition, like a dog ! My desperate attempt to be a man that I'm not and that I probably never will be ! Scream at my lack of courage, my cruelty, my stupid optimism, my dangerous overdoing of things! My thoughts, my tantrums! Scream out my fear of others, my petty deviousness, my regrets, my mistakes, my neuroses. My obsessions, my meta-obsessions".

Then, whispering to himself, he added. "My fear of pain, loss, suicide, and depression." At the words, Hermione's eyes widened and she went to hold him. Tighter than the night she offered him the watch. Tighter than she had ever held someone.

"How can you think you care about me even when I myself don't want me ?" Pollux murmured in her ears. "Why do you say you love me even when I myself hate me ?"

Hermione heard footsteps and looked towards the end of the corridor to see Cole arriving. As he approached, he slowed down his pace until he stopped a few meters away. The sight must have been almost biblical : Pollux on the floor, sobbing and holding Hermione for dear life. Then her, tears fresh on her cheeks as she held a firm embrace. Then, the lads. The eight of them silently witnessing the pathetic life that was Pollux'.

"Why are you here, why do you stay ?" Pollux sobbed.

OoOoOo

01.12.1943 :

Hermione had not been able to eat at lunch, she had this knot in her stomach preventing her from swallowing anything. She was silently sitting at the Slytherin table, feeling some of the lads gaze on her. Hermione wasn't willing to raise her head and meet their eyes, she was still too shaken up by what she had witnessed with Pollux.

She had known him to be an alcoholic, struggling daily with his addiction. She had seen him at his worst - or what she had assumed to be his worst. But this morning she had been the witness of another Pollux. Someone who took important decisions about his brother's life without even consulting him. Hermione shook her head, trying not to think about that. But the moment she looked on her left, she saw Cole. He had been so soft with Pollux this morning, he had gently walked him back to his dorm. He had given her a smile she was still trying to understand.

"You're coming ?" A voice from above brought her out of her thoughts. Isodor was warmly smiling, his satchel around his shoulder, waiting for her to get up and follow him. Hermione only nodded and stood up. She shot a last glance at Cole, already looking at her, and smiled.

The walk towards their DADA lesson was relatively quiet. Isodor was chatting with Edgard and Edmund about the last Quidditch game while Milton, Thorus and Tom were debating about some runes.

"He's going to be alright, you know ?" Abraxas said to her. Hermione had not even realised he was walking beside her until now. She looked at him, not knowing what to answer. "Don't look at me like that Hortense. The Malfoys and Parkisons have always been really close. I almost grew up with them." He continued. "I've always been closer to Cassandre though, but I know Pollux. He's going to be fine. It's only politics. In a couple of years, it'll be forgotten."

Hermione shouldn't be surprised, in her own timeline Draco and Pansy were close and so were their family. So she just kept staring until they arrived in front of the door and Professor Aldritch was asking for them to enter. The room was rearranged for duels, they all knew it. The desks were pushed aside, leaving a large space in the middle of the room.

"Please gather around everyone." Atticus' loud voice called the students to the front of the room. "As you can all see, today is a special day. We've done theory so far and I would like to see you in action."

Hermione saw smiles on the student's face at the words. They were all excited to duel whereas she was simply hoping she would not have to do it. She withdrew herself to the back and avoided the professor's gaze. Some hands rose up to be the first one to duel but Aldritch called two specific students.

"I see there are two prefects here, one for Slytherin and one for Gryffindor. How about you show us how you duel ?" He said. Hermione saw Tom's head turning towards Shacklebolt and the smirk slowly growing on his lips.

The others formed a circle around the two students. Hermione hopped on one of the tables next to Belone, her legs dangling and her elbows on her thighs. The lads were not far from her, except for Milton on the other side of the room.

The two prefects stood in front of one another, both of their wands towards their chest and ready to begin. The last time Hermione had seen Tom in action was in January, during the attack. It had been different back then. First, he had not been patiently waiting for his opponent to bow. Second, he had been risking his life. He had been a good dueler, especially for someone his age. He was good, she knew it.

Shacklebolt and Riddle bowed, took three steps backward and it began. The first spell was cast so fast, even Hermione was taken aback. It flew right out of Tom's wand and hit Harrison right in the shoulder. The Gryffindor prefect quickly responded to this attack with a _Stupefy_ Tom easily ducked. The lads were cheering for their friend as they watched Tom dominate the duel.

From an outsider's point of view, this duel was great. Tom was clearly superior to his opponent. He was quick, powerful, and smart in his spells' selection. But this was no surprise to anyone, he had always been good at dueling.

However, this time, Hermine noticed something. He was quicker and stronger than the last time she saw him. As he was more powerful, he lacked a certain elegance. It was raw power not yet entirely mastered. But more importantly, he was holding back. And that scared her.

In the end, he won, no surprise there. He kept the perfect mask of humility as Aldritch complimented him. But he had this glint in his eyes, the one Hermione knew to be anger against himself. He, too, knew he had not mastered this duel perfectly and would work harder to do so. This is when a question popped in her mind :

 _Since when has he been training ?_

Tom went to sit by Abraxas and Dolohov, the two clapping him on the shoulders to congratulate him. The duels went on. Hermione was still looking at him, not fully comprehending what she had just seen. She knew he was aware of her gaze on him, the smirk he constantly had on his face grew slightly. When Hermione noticed this, she turned her attention back to the duels, not wanting to give him any satisfaction.

The duels were getting more interesting than the year before, the students were slowly becoming more skilled and Hermione almost enjoyed watching them. Belone gently poked her in the ribs. Hermione turned to her friend with a questioning look.

"Tom's watching you." McNair told her. Hermione forced herself not to look.

"And ?" She asked.

"Nothing," Belone smirked, "I just wanted to let you know."

Her friend faced the duels once again, the smirk still not disappearing from her face. Hermione didn't look at Tom, she knew what he was playing at. He was good, to say the least. He must have known Belone would say something if he looked at her that way. She almost rolled her eyes at the thought.

 _He sure is committed to his plan._

"Who's that ?" Belone whispered. Hermione looked at where Belone was staring and noticed someone entering the room. Someone she knew. "What a sight for sore eyes." Her friend kept lurking at the man. Hermione preferred not to say anything and waited for Atticus Aldritch to notice the newcomer.

"Thank you everyone." The professor said. "It was a great lesson, you did all very good. I will see you next week."

The students gathered their belongings and left the classroom. Hermione thought about trying to blend into the crowd of students leaving the room when someone grabbed her wrist. She went to turn around to face what she knew to be Tom when someone interrupted her.

"Grace." The man who just entered the room said, slowly walking towards where Tom and she were standing. "I'm really happy to see you."

Hermione put on her fakest smile and felt Tom's grip loosening until he let go of her.

"Mister Oswald," She smiled. "I hadn't seen you there."

Tom's face morphed into something else when he heard his name. He quickly glanced at her and became more interested in what was happening.

"I've already told you to call me Stilton." Oswald said. His voice was deep and sensual. The uneasiness Hermione had felt in Aldritch's office a week ago went crushing back. Hermione felt the need to cover herself from head to toe. Oswald's eyes were roaming her body. He was about to speak again when Gemma Montague entered the room, obviously looking for Professor Aldritch. At the sight of Oswald, her gaze softened and she smiled. Hermione quickly looked at the man and noticed the predatory smile growing on his lips.

 _Oh._

This moment lasted only for a second before Oswald turned back towards Hermione. She saw Gemma's face flattening at the sight.

"Would you stay for some tea ?" Oswald asked her. The only thing that went by Hermione's mind was a big fat no. However, she simply shook her head.

"I'm sorry but I can't." She politely declined. She looked at Tom and saw her way out. "Tom and I have some urgent homework to do."

Only someone who had spent hours analysing Tom's face would notice the small frown he had on his face. Hermione noticed. She was almost expecting Tom to say something but he simply let the situation play out.

"Nonsense." Oswald smiled. "I'm sure Atticus can get your way out of that."

"I'd never ask Professor Aldritch to do that." Hermione tried to keep her tone light. Her eyes were going back and forth between Oswald and the door, only hoping for this conversation to stop soon. She took a few steps towards the door, Tom on her left, still not saying a word. Oswald a few feet behind, accompanying her to the door. She tried to discreetly lower her skirt as she was sure he was looking at the back of her thighs. As they arrived at the door, Tom went out first. When Hermione was about to follow suit, she felt Oswald's hand on her lower back and his breath coming next to her right ear. "Always a pleasure to see you." He purred.

Hermione was not only horrified by the tone he used but by the fact that he was touching her. His hand on her lower back was almost burning her. His touch was unbearable, it made her feel dirty. Hermione sent Oswald a tight smile and went by Tom's side, quickly walking away.

They didn't talk, both aware of the conversation they were going to have couldn't be held in public. Tom turned right and walked towards a room he knew to be empty. He opened the door to let her enter first, instinctively gently pushing her inside with his hand on her back. Once the door closed, he began.

"Why haven't you said yes to him ?" Tom said.

"What ?" Hermione couldn't believe what he had just said.

"You could have got information out of him." Tom kept going.

"Are you-" She began but Tom cut her off.

"You always have excuses to justify your lack of work. You clearly had an opportunity back there to do something. I said nothing in the last meeting regarding your supposed plan to get him out of the way because we both know you do not have one. What is your excuse this time, Grace ?"

His question was so genuine that Hermione understood he had not felt the awkwardness back there. He must not have seen the way Oswald was looking at her, like a piece of meat. He must not have noticed the small glances towards her thighs or chest. He must not have felt the twisted atmosphere around them. He must not have perceived her uneasiness and fear she had felt towards the man. He had been oblivious to the entire situation.

"I don't have one." Hermione chose to answer. She didn't want to talk further with him. She looked at the mural clock. "I have to go." She said. "I told Cole I'd check on Pollux." As if she knew what he was about to say she added "I won't be late, I'll see you and the lads in an hour."

She went towards the door to leave when he did the one thing he knew would make her stay : he scoffed.

"What now ?" She almost snapped as she spun around to face him.

"I dither between finding your adoration towards Parkinson amusing or simply pathetic." Tom said. "Even when he hurts you in the most horrible ways, you keep going back. You did this last year after your birthday when he did not stand up for you, and you do it now when he openly threw his problems at your face."

Hermione knew better than to directly answer what Tom said. She suddenly felt the urge to defend her friend. "He was drunk." She replied.

"When is he not ?" Tom smirked.

OoOoOo

01.01.1943 :

Hermione gently knocked on the seventh-year boys' dorm. The door opened and Cole's face appeared. He quickly looked back then joined her outside after gently closing the door behind him.

"He doesn't remember anything from his little breakdown this morning." He told her. "I don't think it'd do him any good to bring that up."

"We can't overlook what happened Cole." Hermione said. "You weren't there, you haven't heard everything he said. He needs help. He needs to talk about his feelings, about what's happening inside his head."

"Not now. That's all I'm asking of you."

"You're the one to delay everything Cole." She hissed. "Talking to him about his alcoholism ? Not now. Talking about his family issues ? Not now. Talking about his mental health ? Not now." Hermione felt the anger slowly rising in her belly. "We're his friends Cole, we must start acting like it."

Without even waiting for an answer, she slowly entered the dim-lit room to find Pollux on his bed. She crouched on the floor next to him and put her hands on the bed and her chin on top of them. She noticed that Cole had not followed her inside and must have gone down to the common room.

"Feeling better ?" Her voice was soft and calm. Pollux just let out a groan as an answer. The nightstand was packed with half-empty hangover potions. Hermione rose to her feet and gently pushed Pollux to the side to sit next to him.

"What time is it ?" He asked, half opening his eyes to look at her.

"Around three." She said. "You've been asleep for about four hours."

Pollux groaned once more and buried his face in his pillow. Hermione wondered if it was the right time to broach the subject. As Cole's word kept playing in her head, she simply let the silence do the conversation. They stayed like that for about a minute before he broke it.

"Say it." Pollux loudly exhaled. "Say what you have to say."

"What you did was fucked up."

At her words, he closed his eyes tighter then sat on his bed.

"Yes." He acknowledged. "Don't you think I'm aware of that ?"

"Why did you do it then ?"

"I did what I had to do. Like I always do." He said it in a desperate tone.

"Isn't it the problem ?" Pollux frowned so she explained further. "You do what you have to do, not what you think is right."

"No Grace, this _is_ the right thing to do." He let out a humourless laugh.

"You're thinking as the heir of your family not as a brother."

"Do you know what would have happened if I had thought like a brother ?" He rhetorically asked her. "My father would have realised that my first decision was not the right one and then could have decided I wasn't fit for the role. Then what ? He could have ousted me." Pollux sat even straighter and rose his chin to look at her. "And what am I if not the heir ?" He shook his head. "Absolutely nothing. I'd rather be an arsehole than nothing."

 _He is afraid. He is afraid of losing it all by speaking his mind._

 _He has no safety net._

 _He's not top of his class. He's not a prefect nor a HeadBoy. He has nothing but this._

 _This heir title._

"And you're ready to lose your brother for what ?" Hermione asked. "A title ?"

"Oh Grace," he pathetically answered, "I've lost him a long time ago."

Hermione removed her shoes then laid back next to him. She took his hand and squeezed it. A comfortable silence settled. She knew Pollux was restraining himself from crying or even letting out any sound that would indicate how sad he felt at this moment. So, she just kept holding his hand. She heard his ragged breath and heavy exhales. She felt his desperation and self-hatred. So, she just kept holding his hand.

"Sometimes I wish I was somewhere else. Most of the time to be honest." She began, her voice barely a whisper. "I feel like I'm stuck. Stuck somewhere I don't belong. I feel really lonely. But not when I'm with you. Never when I'm with you, actually." She turned her head to look at his side. "I feel like I'm wearing a mask when talking to others. Not being my true self. But not when I'm with you. Never with you. You're my break from reality Pollux."

He also turned his head to look at her, his eyes becoming glassy.

"Why are you telling me that ?" He asked, voice thick from emotions.

"I just feel like you need to know why I'm here, why I stay."

* * *

05.12.1943 :

They had been waiting for her for about ten minutes before Tom decided it was enough. The air was freezing and snow was slowly falling from the grey sky.

"Let's go to the Three Broomsticks, I'm fucking freezing." Abraxas complained. Tom was about to agree when he saw, from afar, Cole leaving what seemed to be a pub. It definitely was a pub, Tom had walked past it a few times since his first Hogsmeade trip in third year. He had never gone in though. He didn't have to think twice about it before knowing she surely was in there.

"I think I know where she is." He said before walking towards the pub. The seven boys followed him and they all entered the small place. It was not as crowded as the others in the streets were during the Hogsmeade trip. There were a few clients by the fire at the back of the room. A large bartender was behind the bar, cleaning some glasses. And here she was. Casually seated on one of the high stools by the bar like she owned the place, a glass of what seemed to be elf wine in her hand.

"Cole's wrong about that Abe, Pollux wa-" Grace stopped talking as she heard the little bell above the door ring. She turned her head to the right, as did the bartender, and both of them stared at the lads.

"We don't serve alcohol to underage wizards boys." He said. Grace was frozen on the spot, apparently not fully understanding what they were doing here.

"Why are you serving Grace then ?" Isodor asked. The bartender looked at Grace.

"You know them ?" He asked her.

Grace opted for not answering and directly addressed the lads. "What are you doing here ?" She almost hissed.

"We've been waiting for fifteen minutes in the cold Grace." Edgard answered. She looked at the clock, on the wall in front of her, and sighed. "Fuck." She muttered. Edmund rolled his eyes and went to the back of the room to sit at a circular table. The lads quickly followed him, except for Tom, who was cheekily looking at her, one elbow on the bar. As the bartender went to take the lads' orders, Tom approached her.

"So, this is Abe." He said. Grace nodded and took a sip of her drink, not directly answering. He knew she was not about to say anything, so he just continued. "Just saw Woodcroft storming out of here." At that, Grace looked at him, apparently understanding what was not said. " _Trouble in paradise_?" He mocked her.

"I'm not in the mood, Riddle." She said.

"Oh, so we are back on the last name basis, Hortense ?" He cheekily asked. Grace rolled her eyes and stood up to join the lads. Tom looked at her as she walked away, amused.

"What will you be drinking ?" He heard a voice behind the bar. He spun around and noticed that the bartender, _Abe_ , had returned.

"What _can_ I drink ?" He asked back. Tom saw Abe's lips slightly twitch upward, apparently amused with the way Tom shot back. The prefect internally smiled, the first impression seemed to be a good one.

Actually, since Pollux's birthday back in September, Tom had been quite interested in this Abe. The three friends, Pollux, Cole, and Grace seemed to often talk highly of him. It seemed entirely normal for Tom to know who this person was. He listened carefully to the drunken stories Pollux told his friends in the common room, about the way he acted with the bartender. He listened carefully because Tom knew that when he'd meet Abe - because he would - he would need to make a good impression.

The bartender took out a glass and put it on the bar in front of Tom then began pouring what looked like butterbeer. At the sight, Tom forced a smile on his lips, took the glass, and went to join the lads.

It seemed like the lads quite enjoyed this pub. As it was not as crowded as the other in the street, they were able to talk without having to almost yell. The table at which they were all seated was big enough for the nine of them to sit comfortably.

"Shouldn't we be celebrating Malfoy's new acquisition ?" Thorus suggested. Tom saw the small grins appearing on the other lads' faces. Malfoy, however, scowled at Nott.

"What acquisition ?" Grace asked.

"The Malfoy family just became the new owners of a third of Diagon Alley." Edgard laughed. Grace seemed to be impressed at that.

"Nothing worth celebrating." Abraxas mumbled.

"Nonsense." Isodor snickered. "Come on Milton, we'll get the drinks." Avery clapped Milton's back for him to get up and they both went to the bar to order another round. Tom hid his smirk in his drink, still amused by Edgard's cheekiness. He quickly looked at Grace and noticed her staring at Abraxas, a questioning look on her face.

OoOoOo

05.12.1943 :

"Well gentleman," Edmund stood up, "I must leave you. A charming lady is waiting for me."

"Who's the unlucky bird ?" Antonin mocked.

"Lynn Flanagan." Rosier announced proudly. Edgard simply whistled in amazement and received a little shove from his friend.

"Actually, I need to leave too." Thorus said. "I've told Silas I'll join him at the bookstore."

"Let's all leave then." Milton suggested.

The group left money on the table for the drinks and went towards the door. Tom saw Grace lingering behind, obviously wanting to properly greet the bartender goodbye. For once, Tom gave her this minute of privacy, waiting for her by the door.

He held the door open, let her out and with a small nod towards Abe, exited the pub.

The group headed south, towards where most of the shops were when a voice Tom recognized, stopped them in their tracks.

"Grace ?"

They all turned around and saw Stilton Oswald walking their way.

"Mister Oswald." The girl politely replied. At the name, most of the lads became alert and stood a little bit straighter. "To what do I owe the pleasure ?"

"Gentlemen." The ambassador greeted the lads. Tom almost snickered at the fake smile Isodor bore on his face. Oswald's eyes went back on Grace's figure. "I'm joining your DADA teacher for a drink. You should come with us, if I recall correctly you owe me a cup of tea, Grace."

The first time Tom saw Stilton Oswald he was quite surprised by the fact that he was good looking. The ambassador had the perfect face for politics : utterly charming. Moreover, Tom was not that surprised that Stilton Oswald seemed captivated by Grace. Afterall, Grace _was_ captivating.

"I wouldn't dare interrupt your day. I'm sure you're quite busy." Grace answered, her jaw slightly tense.

"Come on _Grace_ ," Antonin smirked, "it would be impolite to refuse such a lovely offer."

Tom slightly frowned. On one hand, Tom understood why Dolohov wanted her to say yes. Time was running out, and everyone was counting on her to "get rid" of him. On the other hand, Dolohov had never been a team player regarding Grace. On the contrary, he would be the first one to make sure she didn't succeed just to point out her mistake later, during a meeting for instance.

He then turned his head towards her and saw Grace hesitating. He couldn't believe it. He had been quite clear the other day regarding this situation. She met his gaze as she surely felt the way Tom was glaring at her. Her eyes were wide and almost pleading - pleading for what ? Tom didn't know - so he simply answered for her. "She would love to."

* * *

05.12.1943 :

Hermione was almost relieved to see the three broomsticks packed. When Tom answered for her, she felt dread crushing through her body at the thought of being alone with him.

"Bourbon ?" Oswald bent towards her to ask her.

"I'm underage." She answered, trying to lean away from him.

"Never been a problem."

 _Actually Mister Oswald, it should be a problem._

He signaled to the bartender and ordered two bourbons, before guiding her towards a secluded table at the back. He pulled her chair for her to sit and push it back as she bent her knees. He let his right hand linger on her shoulder as he went to sit by her side.

"When is Professor Aldritch joining us ?" She asked.

"Atticus has never been known for his punctuality." Oswald smiled. Hermione felt her heartbeat quicken in her chest.

 _He was never supposed to be there, right ?_

"Every time I see you Grace, you are surrounded by different men." Oswald approached her slightly. "But who am I to blame them ? I most surely understand the appeal."

Hermione visibly curled up at the words, trying to get away from him. Yet, the man only got closer and closer until he put his hand on her thigh. Oswald and Hermione startled when the barmaid put the drinks on their table. Oswald straightened and took off his hand out of Hermione's leg.

Hermione had been afraid many times in her life. She had been afraid of torture, of losing friends, of dying even. However, she had never been afraid of a man in a packed pub. Until now.

Like nothing ever happened, Oswald lit up a cigarillo and smiled at her. He began talking but Hermione couldn't hear anything. She saw his lips move in accordance with what he must have been saying but nothing reached her ear. She was too concentrated on her frantic heartbeat and the sound of her pulse in her ears to focus on his words.

"Grace ?" He repeated and Hermione snapped out of her trance.

"Excuse me, what ?"

"Will I see you ?"

"Where ?"

"At the Christmas party."

OoOoOo

10.12.1943 :

She wanted to talk to no one. She didn't even want to be there, surrounded by hundreds of students cheering for their house, in the middle of the bleacher during winter. No, she certainly didn't want to be there. Pollux wasn't even playing - after the _Cassandre Drama_ as Cole liked to call it and the fact that Pollux had skipped an entire day of lessons, he had been given an important number of detentions. One of them being during the Slytherin vs Ravenclaw Quidditch match.

She quickly looked on the right and saw the lads altogether, laughing at something Isodor must have said. She wanted to yell at them. All eight of them. Yelling at them about the fact that _yes_ she would do something about Oswald, _no_ she wasn't sure about her plan yet, _yes_ she was thinking about it, _no_ she didn't need their shitty ideas. So Hermione just looked back at the pitch and tried to think about something else, enjoying a few minutes of loneliness she actually enjoyed.

"Is everything alright ?"

Hermione turned her head to the left and saw Cole leaning against the guardrail.

"I'm fine." She cut short. Hermione was not in the mood to talk. To anyone.

"Sure seems like it." He tried to joke. She didn't bother answering, she just looked back at the game. She heard him exhale loudly, apparently exasperated by her behaviour.

"What do you want Cole ?" She snapped.

"What's up with you lately ?" He asked, genuinely concerned. "You're off. Actually, you've been off for days now. What's going on ?"

Hermione almost laughed.

 _What's going on with you, Hermione ?_

 _Let's recapitulate, shall we ?_

 _You've met Nicolas Flamel, almost got caught, got some help, got your hopes up but still have no clue how to get back._

 _You can't get two minutes alone without one of the lads or Tom reminding you of what you have to do. And what is it ?_

 _Taking down a pervert who seems to be quite interested in getting into your pants._

"Nothing." She harshly answered.

"See ! Yes, something's wrong. Tell me, maybe I can hel-"

"If I needed your help Cole, I would have asked. I don't recall asking you to, so back off."

Hermione realised that Cole had only been a friend, a good friend and she had just snapped at him. "I'm sorry, I-" She began.

"Whatever." Cole stood up and left. Hermione almost grabbed him by the coat to make him stay but her arm didn't move. She simply watched him go, unable to move or to speak. Suddenly the entire Slytherin bleacher applauded and cheered even louder. She took it as her cue to leave.

She found herself aimlessly walking through a deserted Hogwarts and ended up in the dungeon. As she walked past the potion classrooms, she saw one of the doors half-open. She silently approached and peeked through it. Pollux was sitting at one of the tables, silently writing on a parchment. She waited in the doorway, gently leaning against the doorframe and simply looked at him. It was not every day she could witness Pollux Parkinson doing some actual work.

Hermione wondered for a few seconds if she really wanted to interrupt this calm, but in the end, she decided on _yes_. She slowly approached him and gently smiled when he rose his head. They didn't talk. She simply pulled a chair next to him, sat down, and put her head on his shoulder. She enjoyed the silence and the fact that Pollux understood she didn't want to talk. He simply went back to his parchment. Only the sound of the quill on the parchment could be heard. Hermione noticed that Pollux was making sure to stay as still as he could, so he wouldn't disturb her. She smiled at the thought. A few minutes passed before Hermione's studious side decided on looking at what her friend was writing. Firstly, she was not really surprised that he was not working on potions - as he should have. Secondly, she noticed a mistake at the top of the parchment.

"You've made a mistake." She pointed at it and Pollux turned his head to look at her. When he finally understood what she meant, he only smiled and went to correct it. "How come you're not doing potion during your _potions_ detention ?" Hermione asked him.

"As you can see kiddo, old Slug's at the Quidditch game. I can do what I want. And believe me when I say this protean charm essay actually requires work unlike what I thought a week ago."

Hermione chuckled then suddenly stopped. She stood straight in her chair and everything stilled for a second. Her mind was rushing, she felt the adrenaline pulsing through her body and a small laugh escaped her lips. She quickly stood up, almost falling from the chair, and put both of her hands on Pollux cheeks. "You're a genius." She kissed his forehead and ran out of the room.

Her legs were running on their own, from the dungeons to the seventh floor. She was breathing heavily when she arrived, she stopped for a while in order to catch her breath before walking three times in front of the wall and walking in. Hermione didn't even bother looking around her and fell straightforward on her knees. She put the entirety of her purse on the floor and skimmed through the multitude of items. Then, she found it. Underneath the Marauder's Map, gold and shiny. The galleon.

She took it with shaky hands and let out a sigh of relief. It was there, it was working - at least she hoped it would. When Pollux talked about the protean charm, something clicked in her mind. She had created an entire communication system during her fifth year, interconnecting each member of Dumbledore's Army with a Protean charm, she knew perfectly how everything worked. So why not try to defy the law of time with it ?

 _ **You ought to explore every possibility there might be.**_

Flamel's words were resonating in her head, on a loop. Hermione had been so blinded by the painting for a year that she had not even thought about any other alternative. Of course, she knew it might not work. Of course, she knew she might be disappointed. But what else could she do but try ? She had nothing to lose.

She turned the galleon in her hand and began thinking about what would happen if her idea actually worked. What if time was not linear as she always thought it was ? What if her future was taking place at the same moment as her present ?

 _Does that mean, in the year you've been gone, they might all have died ?_

Her heartbeat quickened at the thought and felt the slow panic rising in her throat.

 _Don't even start Hermione._

She couldn't begin thinking that way, so she tried to focus back on the galleon in her palm. Back in her fifth year, she had only used it with numbers. She had never actually written whole sentences but she knew she could. The only thing here was : what could she even write ?

She needed to be brief and precise. She needed the message to be quickly understood.

"Stuck in 1943. Can't go back. Send help. HG" She mumbled to herself as she typed it on the galleon.

OoOoOo

16.12.1943 :

Hermione felt like this meeting was the hundredth this month, almost twice a week the lads and herself met in the same room on the fifth floor. She had stayed rather quiet during this one. Once again, she had not talked further about what she was planning to do with Oswald. Because yes, Hermione finally built a plan and she didn't want to share it.

She was half-listening to what was being discussed between the others, she heard the words "government", "Tuft", "public response", and "Grindelwald". Nothing out of the ordinary. Given that she had no real interest in joining the conversation, she replayed her plan in her mind. Entirely. She came to two conclusions : One, Oswald would definitely be out of the picture by the end of it. Second, she couldn't do it all alone. She would need one person to help her. Her eyes laid on each of the boys sitting around the table before landing on the one lad she knew would be the one helping her.

When Tom dismissed everyone, she quickly looked around her and approached the boy she needed to talk to. She waited for everyone to leave the room before grabbing him by the wrist and holding back inside - just the two of them.

"I might need your help." She told him.

* * *

 **Author's note** : First of all, we're quite proud to have finished the chapter within about a month. Yes, we don't need much to be proud.

If there's any french reading this ff, you might notice that Pollux's breakdown is directly inspired by the Fauve song (it was quite popular in 2012, and when we re-listened we directly thought of the tragedy that is Pollux). We've thought about that around chapter 9, so it feels so good to have finally written it tbh.

Even though Pollux is quite the little bastard, he still remains our favourite - we love our son.

Furthermore, we don't reply to any reviews on ff whereas we do on AO3 and we think this is not fair, so if you want, we will begin replying to reviews in the note.

We're literally so excited for next chapter, it's gonna be so fun to write and we hope you'll enjoy it as much as we do.

Your reviews are giving us life. You are all so kind and amazing. Reading them is just pure happiness, we love you all so much.

Lots of love,

-DDM's Managers


	19. TALES FROM THE LOOP

" **Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

 **CHAPTER NINETEEN : TALES FROM THE LOOP**

* * *

 _Song : Tales from the loop_

TW : Sexual Assault

24.12.1943 :

The music could be heard from where Hermione had just flooed in. The corridor was almost golden from the light of a thousand candles and the soft sound of her heels resonated in the hallway. She could feel the soft satin of her red dress against her bare legs. She looked good and she knew it. Her hair was tamed into a ballerina bun, not a hair out of place. She had chosen the perfect red lipstick to match her dress. No, Hermione didn't just look good on this night, she was absolutely ravishing.

When she turned right, at the end of the corridor, she saw the lads gathered a few meters away. Tom, in an impeccable dark suit, was vehemently talking to them, using his hands a lot. The sound of her heels made Isodor's head snap towards her and a grin bloomed on his face. He quickly elbowed Edgard, just beside him, and the boy turned around. One by one, the lads looked at her, completely losing interest in what Tom was saying. The latter, in the middle of a sentence, finally noticed her. He didn't finish what he was saying, he simply stared. Hermione wondered for half a second if she had finally managed to render him speechless. She stopped in her tracks, a few feet away from the group, and held Tom's gaze.

"Gentlemen," he said to the lads, "I must leave you. My date just arrived."

He left the boys and walked towards her. His black tuxedo was perfectly fitted for his silhouette, the bow impeccably tied around his neck and contrasting with the pristine white of his shirt. As he arrived at her level, Hermione could notice the faint smell of Tom's perfume. His eyes had not left hers since he first saw her.

Hermione felt shy under his gaze. His smirk grew on his lips as he stood straight in front of her. He offered her an arm she willingly accepted. Arm in arm, they moved towards the large stairs leading to the atrium. They took in the sight for a second, the large atrium, packed with hundreds of influential people. All dressed in sublime dresses and tuxedos, talking and laughing over a flute of champagne.

Tom silently leaned towards her and let his mouth ghost over her ear. "Shall we ?" With a simple nod from her, Tom led her downstairs. They wandered towards the bar where Tom asked for two glasses of champagne. He handed it to her and they clinked their flutes, both smiling.

Hermione looked around and couldn't help but enjoy the moment. She had never seen the Ministry of Magic this way. The majestic fountain was taking the center stage, the water looking gold and otherworldly. The ministry officers were all wearing a small pin on their tuxedo vest, a glass of bourbon, or champagne in one hand and their wives on the other.

They didn't get the time to take a second sip of their drink that they were already greeted by several couples. They didn't know them particularly, they had only seen them briefly last year during Slughorn's Christmas party. Tom had this charming smile on his face. The one Hermione knew to seduce everyone. He was playing the role perfectly : the bright Slytherin prefect. Hermione received some charming compliments from the couple before the two left to mingle. She heard Tom softly exhale. "It's only the beginning, Tom." She told him. "Don't get tired already."

"As if." He smirked.

She then rose her eyes and took a good look at the place. The last time she had stepped foot in the ministry was the night she arrived in May, polyjuiced in Bellatrix Lestrange. It felt weird being here tonight. She never had the opportunity to take in the sight of this magnificent place. She looked at the hundred offices above her. From the small ones on the right to the largest, she had ever seen so far, overhanging the atrium. It looked gigantic from below.

The large bay window allowed anyone to catch a glimpse of a large wooden desk and the large bookshelves on the walls. Her eyes then fell on the large clock on the left, silently telling the time. It was not the same gold as the water of the fountain but not far. It could be seen from anywhere in the room. Finally, she noticed the lads at the back of the room. Tom followed her gaze. He took her by the waist and they walked towards the boys. However, just before joining them, Hermione stopped. "I'll be back in five." She murmured before leaving him.

From afar, she saw the ladies' room and hurried to get inside. Luckily, the room seemed empty. Hermione approached the sinks and put both of her palms on the white marble. She rose her head and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She first looked at her lips, still bright red. Then her gaze reached her cat-eyes. She looked at them for a good thirty seconds before deciding it was time. She slowly exhaled and closed her eyes. Her right hand turned into a fist, and she knocked twice on the marble.

* * *

24.12.1943 :

"I'll be back in five." Tom felt the soft air caressing his ear as she spoke. His eyes followed her leaving the room, followed the way her dress perfectly emphasised her gentle curves. Grace looked good tonight and Tom couldn't deny that.

"Stop staring, Tom." Thorus said. Riddle quickly turned his head to face the lads, the seven of them looking directly at him.

"I am looking around the room, Nott." Tom replied almost defensively. "And even if I did stare, at least _I_ can." He added. The other boy flattered at the comment. The lads all shared a knowing glance and Malfoy decided on changing the subject to defuse the tension.

"Have you seen your father yet, Avery ?" He asked. Isodor simply jutted his chin up towards the large office overhanging the atrium. "He's in his office with Rookwood." He then commented. "His former office, I mean."

A waiter walked past Tom, a tray full of drinks and programs. Tom stopped him by the arm, switched his empty flute by a full one and took one of the pamphlets. He opened it and read out loud tonight's program.

"The speech is at 9:30PM." He told the lads.

"This is bullshit." Dolohov spat. "If _we_ were in charge, Oswald would not be doing this fucking speech tonight."

"Don't even start Antonin." Tom growled. "Oswald being promoted to Minister of International Magical Cooperation tonight does not mean we cannot do anything about him later."

"Wait," Edgard said, "Has Grace told you something ?"

Tom didn't answer. He didn't know what Grace's plan was. She had been quite clear during the last meeting that she would take care of him alone. Tom couldn't really argue with her as he was the one to order her to do so. Moreover, it wasn't like she couldn't be trusted with this kind of _mission._ She had shown him in the past she was smart enough to succeed in making whatever plan work. His lack of answer gave away to the lads the fact that Grace had told him nothing.

He lowered his eyes towards the pamphlet once again. He had been quite surprised to see that Tuft wanted to introduce the newest member of her government on this public night. It was not usual to do so. Tom briefly wondered if she had thought this through. In an hour and a half, she would let everyone know whom she had chosen to take Avery's Senior job and wouldn't be able to back down in the future.

Once Oswald out of the picture - because he knew he would be eventually - Tuft would not have any other solution but to take someone people knew and respected : Samson Avery.

"My boys !" The loud voice of Slughorn reached their ears. The eight Slytherin looked at the large professor zigzagging through the crowd to join them. "Marvelous ! Seeing all of you tonight." He took a sip of his firewhiskey and looked at each lad individually. "Don't you all look good ?" He chuckled.

"This party does not even come close to your usual Christmas party, sir." Tom praised the potion master. Tom knew the only way to stay in Slughorn's good grace was either by being brilliant at potions or showering him in compliment. Tom did both.

"Thank you, Tom but we both know this is a lie." Slughorn laughed. "By the way, I've received your present. Thank you very much, Tom. I always enjoy a good box of crystallized pineapple."

Tom nodded to his professor and noticed the lads getting quite bored by the conversation. Slughorn appeared to have noticed too.

"Milton, I've seen your brother somewhere." Horace said. "Are you planning on following in his footsteps ?"

Milton suddenly became embarrassed. His cheeks turned slightly redder as did his ears. Tom turned towards Mulciber, waiting for him to answer.

"Well-uh," Milton said, "I could always try." He was so pathetic at this moment and if Tom hadn't known better, he would almost feel bad. Slughorn cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed of having brought up what appeared to be a sensitive subject.

"Where are your dates ?" He hastened to change the topic. "You should never leave a woman unattended."

"Well said, professor." Grace appeared by Slughorn's side. The latter spun around to take a good look at her. "My, my, my Grace. You look magnificent tonight. Who's the lucky man ?"

The smirk grew naturally on Tom's face as he took a step forward "It appears to be me, professor."

Slughorn looked at the two and smiled as if satisfied with the pairing. "I've always sensed something between you two. Once again, my sixth sense never fails me."

Isodor didn't contain his loud snicker at the remark and Tom saw Grace's lips purse into a thin line to retort something back. Tom didn't want her to contradict the potion master so he simply cut her off. "Thank you, sir."

Grace looked at him, silently asking what he was doing and Tom just sent her a small smirk. Slughorn put his empty drink on a tray passing by and smiled as he saw Atticus Aldritch coming their way alongside Stilton Oswald. The DADA teacher nodded to everyone whereas Oswald shook everyone's hand before gently taking Grace's in his and dropping a small kiss in the center. "You've outdone yourself tonight Grace," he told her in a suave voice, "you're scandalously gorgeous."

Tom was looking at Grace during those few seconds, to see if her cheeks flushed from the praise, to see if she was enjoying being complimented by the good looking man. Yet, she was just blankly staring at him, a polite smile on her red lips. She quickly withdrew her hand and put it behind her back.

"Good to see you, Horace." Atticus gently clapped Slughorn back as he spoke. "It's nice to see all of you here tonight." He then talked to the students before looking at the flutes of champagnes in their hands. He lightly snickered. "I can see the Ministry has changed its policy regarding underage drinking." He winked at them. Atticus didn't get the time to talk further than a man dressed in his formal Auror outfit called out for him. Tom looked at the auror and recognized him. He had seen him before, back in January during Grindelwald's attack. Iru Mator, was it ?

"Are you nervous, Mister Oswald ?" Edgard Lestrange bluntly asked. Stilton only stiffed for half a second before letting out a small laugh.

"Why should I be nervous ?" He rhetorically asked with arrogance. "I've worked hard all my life for this, there is nothing to be nervous about. It's time this ministry has some competent white-collar workers." Tom saw, from the corner of his eyes, Isodor silently fuming. Slughorn slightly choked on his drinks. Oswald had just looked down on each of the lads' fathers in only one sentence. Tom was almost impressed by the boldness.

"You seem quite self-assured regarding your proficiency, Mister Oswald." Grace intervened. Oswald's eyes almost glowed at Grace's words, slowly squinting. He drank his champagne and smirked at the girl. "I guess you'll have to wait and see, then." He told her. "And, for the last time Grace, just call me Stilton."

* * *

24.12.1943 :

"... just call me Stilton." His eyes have not left her figure since the beginning of the conversation. Hermione wondered if the others could also sense the tension between the two. Hermione's hand was still behind her back, gently rubbing against the satin of her dress to get rid of any trace Oswald's kiss may have left behind. On her left, Tom was silently inspecting everyone in the circle. He looked at the lads, and the awkwardness was almost palpable among them.

Then his gaze fell on Oswald, and Tom had this weird look on his face.

"Stilton, I'd love to have you over for tea sometimes." Slughorn said. "I've seen you a couple of times back at the castle while you're visiting Atticus. Of course, only if you have the time. I know you'll have much more responsibility from now on."

"It'd be my pleasure Horace." Oswald finally broke eye contact with Hermione to look at his interlocutor.

Someone in the crowd called for Oswald. He excused himself then left to join another group.

The lads silently looked at Slughorn, wondering if he was, too, about to leave. Which, eventually he did.

"Well, my date is ogling at me." Edmund sighed. "She's so dull." He waved his hand at a blond girl at the back and put on the fakest smile Hermione had ever seen.

"Why did you come with her, then ?" Hermione asked.

"Oh Grace, we don't all have the liberty to choose our date." He laughed. "Well, my friends, I must leave you." Thereupon, Rosier dragged himself to where his date was waiting for him, near the fountain.

"So do I." Thorus explained. "I-uh-I need to see my father quickly."

The lads all looked at Thorus, quite suspiciously, as they lost sight of him in the crowd. No one talked about the obvious lie that blurted out of Nott's mouth. Everyone just dispersed, Edgard and Milton going towards the bar to grab something to eat, Isodor and Antonin joined their dates.

The three left, Abraxas, Tom, and Hermione simply kept sipping their drink.

"This party already sucks." Abraxas complained. "If my father had been elected, it would have been way better."

Hermione rolled her eyes and slightly cocked her head to the side.

"The party has barely even begun Malfoy." She said. The blond didn't bother replying to her little comment, he just stopped a waiter and popped a foie-gras toast in his mouth. Hermione looked around to check if any of the waiters were carrying water. It seemed as if not.

"I'm really thirsty," She said, "I'm going to check the bar if there's any water."

"I'll come with you." Tom directly told her. Hermione quickly looked at Abraxas, wondering if he was about to follow them. He seemed like he was. She turned around and walked through the crowd to reach the bar. She asked for a glass of water when Abraxas took another flute of champagne. Hermione chugged down her glass and put it back on the bar. When she looked back to the two, they both had an eyebrow cocked.

"What ?" She asked them. "I was thirsty."

Abraxas just shrugged and turned his upper body towards Tom. They began talking about the latest Quidditch game. Hermione furtively eyed Tom. She had never known him to be interested in this sport but it looked like he knew what he was talking about. Hermione, undoubtedly uninterested in this conversation, let her eyes wander around the room. It appeared as if most of the lads had joined their dates. She recognized some of the girls from Hogwarts.

She then spotted Oswald, engaged in conversation with Gemma Montague. Unlike Hermione, Gemma didn't seem uneasy. She was gently touching his arm as he talked close to her ear. Suddenly her charming laugh reached Hermione's ears. Oswald looked smug at the way she so openly laughed at his jokes. His eyes were dark and slightly squinted, like an animal looking at his prey. Hermione took a flute of champagne from behind her, without taking her eyes away from the two.

"Miss Hortense." A deep voice called her. Hermione started at the sound and turned to the left. Dippet was standing only a few feet away, with Dumbledore and someone Hermione didn't know. "I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you." The Headmaster chuckled. Hermione smiled back and explained she only was lost in her thoughts. A few feet away, Tom and Abraxas stopped their conversation and joined them.

"Gideon," Dumbledore called out to the third man, "let me introduce you to three of our Slytherin students, Abraxas Malfoy, Tom Riddle, and Grace Hortense."

The man, _Gideon_ , shook their hand. "Gideon Barboter"

Abraxas, apparently already acquainted with him, quickly began a conversation about a common friend.

"Do you know where your father is by the way ?" Gideon asked Abraxas. "I'd like to congratulate him on his newest acquisition."

"I haven't seen him." Abraxas stiffly replied.

Tom slightly leaned towards Hermione to whisper. "He is one of Gringotts' biggest investors." She turned her head towards him and saw the usual smirk on his face, apparently aware he knew something she didn't for once. One thing Hermione didn't mind acknowledging, was that she actually was impressed by Tom's knowledge of everything and everyone. She knew that Tom had not given her this information in vain.

"Mister Barboter," she used a sweet voice while addressing the older man, "your work within Gringotts has me quite impressed."

"Oh thank you, Miss Hortense, was it ?" She smiled as a yes. "Hortense ? Where have I heard this name before ?" Gideon had turned towards Dippet, the latter was obviously uncomfortable with the question. Hermione felt no one would answer this question if not her.

"I was at BeauxBatons, sir."

"Oh," Barboter didn't seem embarrassed by his question or anything, "I have read articles about you Miss Hortense. Let me tell you, your courage almost overrides your beauty."

Hermione smiled at the compliment. Unlike Oswald's, Gideon Barboter's compliment was without ulterior motive. It was just genuine and it boosted Hermione's ego.

"Courage often comes naturally in these kinds of situations." Hermione replied.

"I do believe you, Miss Hortense. I've been told about students fighting against Grindelwald during his attack in January." Gideon looked quite impressed. "Of course, this would have never happened if there had been a competent Minister back then."

Hermione knew this topic was coming. After all, they were at a party organised by the Ministry, full of people in close connection to politics. However, she would have not expected that from a financier. Armando Dippet, on Mr. Barboter's right, had taken a sudden interest in the conversation. Was he thinking the same ? Did the Headmaster also think this attack could have been avoided if a stable government had been in place at the time ? Or was he, as Hermione was, aware that nothing could have prevented it ?

"For that matter," Gideon kept saying, "the only thing Grindelwald has done since Tuft has been elected is sending this pitiful letter in the Daily Prophet."

"Maybe the letter was pitiful, but at least we got to know something about what the government is doing." Abraxas said. He had straightened his back and raised his pointy chin. "Most of the time, we are being left in the dark."

"Like father, like son." Gideon had a hearty laugh. "You still have time to get into politics, Abraxas, you should enjoy your youth instead of getting into those topics. Once you're in, it's quite hard getting out."

Hermione looked at Abraxas and saw the way his jaw tensed and his grip tightened on his flute. "You're completely right." He plainly lied. The lie only detectable by Tom and Hermione. "You'll have to excuse me, I have some people I need to greet. Enjoy your night." Abraxas slightly bowed and left.

Dumbledore had been rather quiet since the beginning of the conversation. Hermione knew first hand he couldn't talk about Grindelwald in front of her. Her eyes flickered to Dumbledore and witnessed him already looking at her. They had not talked, only the two of them, since their altercation in November. Hermione imagined Nicolas Flamel had already told him about the philosopher's stone. She couldn't help but feel smugness while looking at him. He, who thought to be smarter than anyone, had just been left in the dark by one of his closest friends.

Hermione had spaced out for a second while thinking about Nicolas Flamel, Dippet's deep voice brought her to reality. They had apparently changed the subject and were talking about the wizarding currency inflation, a conversation Hermione had no interest in. Above Dippet's shoulders she could see Cole and Pollux waving at her. She hid her smile, excused herself, and left to join her friends.

She took a glass of champagne on the way. Pollux was leaning against the bar, a glass of firewhiskey in hands, his legs crossed at the ankles. Cole, on the other hand, was just looking at her, his mouth slightly open and his eyes glowing. Hermione shyly lowered her head to hide her smile.

Apparently, the two seventh-year were already in the middle of a conversation when Hermione arrived. Pollux had kept talking whereas Cole had completely spaced out, still looking at her.

"You're beautiful." Cole adorably flushed. "You-" But was cut off by Pollux flirtily whistling at Hermione's sight. Hermione rolled her eyes and let out a small laugh before turning back to face Cole. "Thank you. You're quite handsome yourself."

"Thank you." Pollux replied. Hermione gently pushed him with her free hand.

"How long have you been there ?" Hermione asked.

"I arrived around 7:30," Cole said, "and Mister Parkinson over here only fifteen minutes ago."

At the sentence, Pollux slouched down further on his legs, obviously already bored by the party. "It's only been fifteen minutes ?" Pollux sighed. "It's going to be a long night my friend. Only eight-thirty and already bored as fuck."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the desperate tone her friend just used. Cole shoved Pollux in the ribs which led the Parkinson heir to spill almost the entirety of his glass on the ground. Hermione snickered.

On their left, among some couples chatting, were Cassandre and who Hermione assumed to be Eugenia Rowle, walking. The youngest Parkinson was a few feet ahead of his date. Hermione looked back at Pollux and saw him chug down the rest of his drink. An uncomfortable silence settled between the three friends.

"He doesn't make any effort." Pollux mumbled. Hermione and Cole shared a knowing look.

"Let's not think about that tonight." Cole said.

"Do you know what he's reproaching me for ?" Pollux kept going, discarding Cole entirely. " For never saying no to our father. And do you know what he's done since we came back home yesterday ? Absolutely nothing. He's not even said anything to father about tha-."

"Pollux," Hermione gently put her hand on his arm. "Let's try to enjoy tonight, shall we ?" Pollux turned his head to look at her, exhaled, and agreed.

"Oh Grace," Cole quickly changed the subject. "A little bit earlier, some old guy went by Mulciber, Milton not Denniston, and thought he was a waiter."

"Oh yes," Pollux laughed, "Milton almost grabbed a tray."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh a little. Those kinds of situations only happened to Milton. Suddenly, someone bumped into her from behind, making her stumble forward. Cole hastily steadied her with his arm. The moment could have been seen as quite intimate from an external point of view. Cole's hand on her lower back, Hermione still laughing at the Milton story. She slowly took a step back and felt Cole's hand leaving her back. Pollux was hiding his smile in his drink while looking at Cole. When he caught Hermione looking, he quickly cleared his throat.

"Have you already lost your date, kiddo ?"

"I'm trying to." She joked.

In front of her, Cole's eyes focused on something behind her.

"You're shit at it then." Cole murmured in a stern voice.

Someone cleared his throat behind her. "Evening gentlemen." Tom appeared at her side. Tom's eyes were stuck on Cole, the latter holding the gaze. "Sorry to interrupt. I was only looking for my date." Pollux looked at her, amused by Tom's pettiness.

"Well," Cole said, "Your _date_ promised me a dance."

Hermione frowned, not remembering promising anything to Cole. She knew better than to contradict her friend, so she simply let Cole drag her to the dancefloor, feeling Tom's eyes on her back.

Cole put one hand on her waist and the other in Hermione's waiting hand.

"What was that ?" She asked him.

Hermione felt at ease in Cole's arms. After their little altercation earlier in the month, she had found it hard not to be close to him. She had gone to the common room one night and had found him in front of the chimney, silently reading a book. She had approached him, sat by his side, and dropped her head against his shoulder. It was this simple with him.

"Nothing." He lied.

"It wasn't _nothing_."

"We're supposed to be dancing Grace, stop with the chatter." He teased her. Hermione only laughed and followed his steps. A quartet was playing at the back of the room. The sound of classical music was loud enough for people to dance to it, but not too much that others couldn't talk. In the way Cole's was dancing, Hermione knew he had done it before. He naturally guided her in the dance, in perfect sync with the rhythm.

"Are you enjoying the night ?" Cole murmured in her ear.

"Am I allowed to speak now ?" She joked. Cole only chuckled.

"As if you needed my permission."

Without any warning, Cole made her spin and she laughed.

"So Pollux is your date ?" She playfully said. "Were all the pretty girls already taken ?"

Cole softly looked at her. "Only the one who matters."

Hermione laid her head against his chest while softly spinning around. She heard his heart slowly beating against her ear.

"It does bother me you came with him tonight." He whispered.

Hermione didn't know what to answer to that. She had known for a while that something had changed in their relationship. So, she simply let his heartbeat soothe her. From where her head was laying, she could see Pollux talking to Tom near the bar. Tom had the face he used when manipulating people. Hermione didn't trust him with Pollux.

"I was planning on asking you to come with me tonight." Cole said. She lifted her head and her eyes flickered back to his. Cole's honesty was surprising her. She liked it.

"Why didn't you ?" She asked in a small voice.

"Because of the way you look at him."

Cole just caught her by surprise. She almost froze in his arms. She wanted to tell him that she was only looking at Tom because she knew what he was up to. Because someone had to watch him. The only way Hermione was looking at him was in a mistrusted one. Cole was looking straight into her eyes, seeing the pure confusion in them.

If Cole had spoken up at this moment, he would have told her that she was not even aware of this. But he kept quiet, he simply enjoyed the fact she was in his arms. Then, he rose his eyes and they settled on something behind her back.

"Always on time." Cole whispered. Hermione was about to ask him what he was talking about when Tom's voice reached her ears. "Mind if I take over ?"

Hermione wanted to tell Cole to stay, wanted to tell him that she enjoyed her night because they were dancing. But Cole simply dropped her hand, nodded to Tom, and left. The prefect took her hand and slid his others on her back, bringing her closer. He had this smugness printed all over his face and it infuriated Hermione. If she could have sent daggers at Tom at this moment, she would have.

"What ?" He asked, a boyish grin plastered on his face. "Am I not allowed to dance with my date ?"

"It's not a date Tom," she hissed, "it's an arrangement. Do I need to remind you we only had one invite for both of us ?"

"Does not change the fact you are my date for the night, Grace."

Hermione was quite surprised by the fact that he could actually dance. He was not as graceful as Cole, but he still managed to dance quite well. Hermione was about to snap back and by the scowl on her face, Tom anticipated.

"You should enjoy yourself, Grace." He said. "Look around you. Two orphans, dancing at the party of the year, surrounded by the elite of the nation." He stopped for a second to build the suspense and brought his lips at the shell of her right ear. "We are playing with everyone at this party, and they have no idea."

Hermione squinted her eyes and saw the genuineness in Tom's. She averted her gaze, kept quiet and they began dancing. Red and Black elegantly spinning among the other couples. Red and Black contrasting with the whiteness of the tiles beneath their feet.

She forced herself not to look at him so she looked around. She forced herself not to look at him. She knew that if she wasn't, they would be staring at each other because she didn't want Cole to be right. She was already feeling his gaze on her. She spotted Cole and Pollux chatting over a drink. She slightly stood on her tiptoes for her mouth to settle next to his ear.

"Pollux is off-limit, Tom. You will not include him in any of your plans. You will not even think about using him for anything."

Tom kept quiet and they returned to dancing. Only for a minute though. Because it was now Tom's time to lean to reach her ear. "Or what ?"

* * *

24.12.1943 :

She had left him, in the middle of the dancefloor. Tom had simply watched her dress disappear in the mass of tuxedos. A smirk slowly grew on his lips.

Tom spun around and walked towards the nearest bar, he asked for another glass of champagne and looked around him. The large clock displayed 8:47PM. He enjoyed this moment of loneliness. He noticed that every time something red appeared in his field of vision, his eyes were automatically looking for her like he was drawn to her.

He caught sight of her, on the other side of the room, not far from where they were dancing a couple of minutes before. The red of her gown turned the world pale and insignificant in comparison. She was dancing with Stilton Oswald. Tom wondered how she had ended up dancing with him. She didn't feel at ease, she was not smiling, her hand on his shoulder was tense. Tom's eyes fell on where Oswald had put his on her lower back. It was slightly too south.

"I don't trust him." Someone said not far from him. Tom discreetly looked and saw Iru Mator in the middle of a conversation with some ministry officials. "Look at him," Iru kept talking, "the way he's groping at this young girl. She doesn't look at ease. This is sick."

The lady looked at the couple dancing and couldn't help but agree.

"Avery was doing a fine job." The Auror said. "I don't understand."

Tom liked this new information. Iru Mator, Head Auror, was apparently on Avery's side. Tom had never thought Iru Mator as someone that could be useful, and he briefly wondered why. The man was highly ranked in the hierarchy.

Thorus was coming his way, a glass of wine in one hand and the other one inside his trouser's pocket. "Have you seen Grace ?" He asked, almost frantically.

"What is up with you ?" Tom pried.

"Nothing." Thorus was looking all around. "I just need to talk to her."

"She is dancing with Oswald."

Tom showed the dancefloor to Thorus with his right hand and noticed she no longer was there. He briefly looked around but couldn't spot her anywhere. He heard Thorus sigh beside him before leaving. Tom, alone once again, ate some of the amuse-bouche lying in perfect order on the bar. On the other side of it, was Slughorn talking to Virginia Tuft, née Alvis, recently married to the Prime Minister's son, Alaric. Tom had heard so much about her, mostly accompanied by slurs from the lads. She was a mudblood after all.

Slughorn's eyes caught him and without a second of hesitation, signaled for Tom to join them. He arrived at their sides and was properly introduced to Virginia. The conversation turned out to be much more interesting than he originally thought. Seemingly, Virginia Tuft had obtained a high position in the first producer of brooms in England. She longly explained the crisis this sector was currently facing.

"Tom ?" Milton slightly clapped Tom's shoulder. The latter turned around to look at him.

"What do you want Milton ?" He hardly whispered. "I am quite busy."

"Denniston is here."

Tom closed his eyes and sighed. "Excuse-me," he addressed to Slughorn and Tuft, "it was a pleasure talking with you Mrs Tuft."

"Lead the way." He ordered Milton once they were already a few feet away from the others. Denniston was talking with some Ministry officials near the large fountain. Milton stiffly approached his older brother. When the latter saw Milton, he excused himself to the civil servants and approached them.

"Denniston, remember Tom ?" Milton spoke up.

"Of course." Denniston extended his hand for Tom to shake. Riddle complied. "Milton told me you're interested in working in my department after Hogwarts."

"Indeed." Tom lied. "The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had always interested me." Tom leaned towards him and loudly whispered. "Also, to be completely honest with you Denniston, I do not believe McNair to be the right fit for this department. Don't you think ?"

Milton, on his left, had the smallest smile on his lips. Tom had picked up the right subject to have Denniston talking. The oldest Mulciber began the longest monologue Tom had ever heard. Tom didn't need to listen carefully to what he was saying, if anything important was to be said, Milton would tell him. His mind wondered once again towards the colour red. He scanned the room, absently looking for her. He found her, vehemently talking to Dolohov in a secluded area, near a large door from where the waiters were coming.

"I am really sorry, Denniston," Tom said, "I must leave you, my date is calling me." Without waiting for an answer, Tom headed towards where the two were. All of a sudden, Dolohov shoved Grace against the nearest wall. Tom sped up at the sight. Arriving at their level, he pushed Dolohov away from her. He grabbed him by the collar and they both stumbled through the door. Grace had followed them.

"The fuck, Dolohov ?" Tom spat. "Have I not been clear before the party about this kind of behaviour ?"

"She was threatening me." Dolohov answered. "What would you have done ?"

"I do not give a fuck what she was doing. You do not make a scene during a Ministry party." Tom, his hand still on Dolohov's collar, turned towards Grace. "Go back to the party." He told her. She was about to talk back but finally decided on leaving the two of them. Once the door closed behind her, Tom pushed Dolohov further against the wall.

"What the fuck is wrong with you ?" Antonin hissed.

"Wrong with me ?" Tom repeated. "You were about to cause a massive scene during one of the most important parties of the year."

"Is that what's really bothering you ? Or is it the fact that your _precious_ Grace was involved ?"

Tom withdrew his wand from his holster and put it beneath Antonin's chin. "Remember who you are talking to, Dolohov."

"You've told me you were manipulating her. Who's manipulating who now ? Still you or her ?"

"Do you really think I would let her manipulate me ?" Tom snapped. "I am in full control of the situation." He violently let go of his fellow Slytherin. "Fuck off." He ordered. Antonin looked at Tom, his brows furrowed for a minute before leaving through the door.

Tom had not moved since Antonin had left him alone. His grip on his wand had turned his knuckles white. He could have thought about millions of things at this moment, yet the only thing on his mind was red satin.

There was a reason why she was the only thing he was thinking about. This party was of utmost importance and he knew she was the only one as much as concerned with the politics as he was. Grace was the only one who perfectly understood the involvement this party required.

This was the only reason why. Right ?

With a loud growl, he punched the wall.

* * *

24.12.1943 :

She was upset with this entire Dolohov situation. He had the talent of getting on her nerves all the time. She had hesitated between staying with the two of them or doing what Tom asked her. In the end, leaving had been the wise choice she told herself. She ordered another glass of water at the bar and took a small verine with smoked salmon. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Thorus coming her way.

"Grace," He said in a tight voice, "may I have a word with you, _please_ ?"

"Not now." She almost barked.

"It's not what you think. I can explain everything."

She faced him. "I've asked you one thing Thorus. We're clear."

She didn't let him the time to say something else that she was already gone. She stood by the fountain and finished her water in one go. As she put the glass on a tray passing near her, she looked at the clock : 9:18PM. She was feeling exhausted like she had been doing this for hours and hours. Tom was slowly walking towards her, his left hand tightening and flexing.

He had just come to stand next to her when someone bumped into her back. Pollux, with a glass in hands and a grin on his face.

"Oh sorry." He said before noticing it was her. He frowned and looked back between the back of the room and Hermione. "H-how ?" He asked. "Am I this drunk ?"

Hermione's head turned towards where Pollux was looking, her heartbeat slightly quickening in her chest. As she saw nothing alarming, she turned back towards her friends. "You should go to drink some water Pollux." She gently told him. His brows were still furrowed in confusion and went away towards the bar.

"What was that about ?" Tom asked her, obviously in reference to what had happened with Dolohov.

"Nothing of your concern."

"No, you do not get to do things on your own."

"Oh really ?"

Hermione crossed her arms upon her chest and jutted up her chin.

"What I have said to Dolohov concerns you, too. You will not make a scene, you will smile and politely talk to everyone you need to." Tom had just used a cold stern voice. Hermione noticed the big difference from the way he had talked to her while dancing. His gaze was different too. His eyes, usually as dark as night, were slightly brighter.

She didn't want to contradict him because she perfectly knew where it would lead to. She only sighed and went to leave but he grabbed her wrist to prevent her from doing so.

"Where are you going ?" He asked, then saw Cole and Pollux from afar. "Going to join them ?"

"Yes", she spun around, "yes, I'm gonna do that. I'm going to spend time with my friends and enjoy the night." She took a step closer. "Maybe I don't want to spend the night playing political games with you Tom."

"Maybe ?" Tom, unexpectedly, laughed at that. "Come on Grace, we both know you want to." He slightly pulled at her wrist to bring her even closer. "Or have you forgotten ?" Hermione furrowed her brows at the question. They were so close that she could feel his breath on her face and the only thing she could smell was his perfume. "You were the one who came to me. You were the one who scattered clues for me to find last year. You were the one who wanted in. You were the one chasing after the game. And now what ?"

He was looking right at her, his head slightly cocked to the right side. And Hermione couldn't do anything else but look back. "You are expecting me to believe you do not want to play anymore ?" He finished.

Hermione was simply taken aback. She had only done that to go home, hadn't she ? She didn't like it, right ? She never liked this sort of challenge Tom was giving her, she was almost sure of it. She also didn't like arguing with him, he was too confident in his intellect.

"You cannot lie to me Grace." He was now whispering. "I am the only one who understands your games and who enjoys them. I am the only one who knows how your mind works because you and I are the same." As he said the last sentence, something flashed in his eyes. Something Hermione couldn't put her finger on.

She only kept shaking her head no. She felt as if they were alone during this moment. Only a few inches away. Red and Black not willing to look away. Red and Black fighting for the upper hand. Red and Black standing still in a sea of people.

"Excuse-me ?" Someone interrupted them. Hermione almost jumped and quickly turned around to see Atticus Aldritch standing there. "Have you seen Stilton ?"

Hermione's gaze quickly flickered to the clock then back on her DADA professor. "No." She answered. Tom was still looking at her, not even acknowledging Aldritch's presence. The latter abruptly left. She turned her head to look at Tom.

"I-" She began but the voice of Rookwood resounded in the large atrium. The chatter coming from the guests died down and everyone turned towards the front of the room, where a small stage was. The undersecretary had his wand on his neck, surely for the _sonorus_ he was currently using, and was urging everyone to gather. Hermione's eyes went, once again, towards the clock : 9:24PM.

* * *

24.12.1943 :

Tom was asking himself what Grace would have said if Rookwood hadn't called everyone for the speech. She was standing on his left, apparently listening quite carefully to what Tuft was saying. The lads were not far, Isodor, Milton, and Thorus just behind him. Whereas Dolohov was directly on his right. Malfoy was with his father at the front of the room. The two Quidditch players were by the bar, talking to some ambassadors.

She was looking at the clock. And of course, Tom followed her gaze. She then turned her head to look behind her. Tom caught a glimpse of a dark green velvet curtain closing the huge window in Avery Senior's former office.

Her head snapped back to look at Tuft. She stayed still for five seconds, before leaving. Tom followed her with his eyes until he couldn't perceive the colour red anymore.

"Without further delay, let me introduce you to the next Minister of International Magical Cooperation, Mister Stilton Oswald."

Everyone loudly clapped at the announcement. Tuft was looking around her, but couldn't find anyone. The clapping became irregular to finally die down. Tom quickly understood something was wrong. He looked to the left, where Rookwood was silently shaking his head no to Tuft.

"Well," Tuft chuckled, embarrassed, "it appears that Mister Oswald might be already working."

Tom knew this was only saying they didn't know where Oswald was. One minute turned into two, then three without hearing from Oswald. One minute turned into two, then three without seeing Grace. Tom was looking around him and couldn't find the red.

"Maybe he's busy." Dolohov said. "Oswald, that is."

"What ?"

"Well, no one can find him, maybe we shouldn't bother him. He might be busy."

Dolohov had this smile on his face. A smile Tom only saw a couple of times. Something was definitely up.

"We should be happy I guess," Dolohov kept going, "maybe he doesn't want the job anymore."

Tom entirely faced Antonin and waited for him to look back, which he did. "What do you know, Dolohov ? What have you done ?"

"Nothing, Tom." He smirked.

Tom didn't get to push further than a piercing scream cursed through the atrium. A scream so full of fear and pain that Tom shivered. A scream coming from the office overhanging the atrium. Tom rose his eyes towards where the sound came from to witness someone tearing the deep green velvet curtain. He saw red. Her eyes were glassy and full of tears, her lipstick smeared on her face, and her left hand clutching to where her dress had been ripped. And behind her, Stilton Oswald, his shirt half off and a hand on his zipper.

There was no doubt about what was happening in this office. Tom found himself running before even noticing it. In the panic, Tom didn't even notice the pace at which his heart was beating. He heard the Aurors not far from him, maybe a few seconds ahead of him. As he got closer and closer he heard the voice of Stilton urging her to shut up. He also heard her broken cries and her pleading to get away from her.

Then, Tom stepped in. A seconds after the aurors had pushed Oswald against the wall. Grace was on the ground, her knees to her chest, her eyes filled with tears. Tom hastened to put his tuxedo vest on around her.

OoOoOo

Tom was looking at her through the small window of Iru Mator's office. Grace was still clutching his vest, still slightly shivering. She had been interviewed by the Auror for about thirty minutes and Tom couldn't help but pace in front of the room. Aurors had told him to stay ready for his own interview as if he wouldn't have stayed either way.

Suddenly, the door opened and Grace stepped out, one Auror gently guiding her towards a small room for her to rest and drink something hot. The Head Auror signaled for him to step in and sit on the chair on the other side of the large desk. His eyes lingered on her figure before Iru Mator insisted for him to get inside. Tom nodded and complied. The Head Auror sat on the other side of the wooden desk and just stared at Tom.

Tom wanted to know what Grace had told him, he needed to know.

"How is she ?" Tom asked.

"Shaken up." Iru Mator replied in a stern voice. "I have several questions to ask you." Tom nodded. "You were Miss Hortense's date for the night, right ?"

"I was." Tom replied. "I asked her to go with me a few weeks ago." He lied.

"Can you tell me a bit more about how the night went ?"

"Everything was fine. We had a few drinks with some friends, mingled a bit. We danced." Tom shot him a meaningful glance.

"But she danced with him, too." The Auror completed.

Tom then put his head in his hands. In this position, Iru would think him to be too shocked by what had just happened to his date. In this position, he would stop the interrogation for a few minutes. In this position, Tom would be able to think about everything. How did she end up with him ?

Tom finally rose his head. "What happened ?"

"When was the last time you saw Miss Hortense ?" Iru Mator ducked the question by asking another one.

"We listened to Tuft's speech together. She must not have left more than five minutes."

"If I understand perfectly, at 9:25PM, Miss Hortense was by your side ?"

"Indeed, sir."

"Until 9:35PM approximately ?"

"Indeed, sir." Tom stopped for a second before opening his mouth to ask once more about what happened in this office.

"You don't want to know what happened, Mister Riddle." The Auror cut him off before he even spoke up. Iru Mator rose from his seat and thanked Tom for his cooperation.

Tom followed him to the door but stopped before stepping out. He turned towards the Head Auror.

"Has what I told you helped with the investigation ?" Tom asked.

"It did, Mister Riddle. You just confirmed what we already knew."

"Which is ?"

"That Mister Oswald lied to us during his interview. Unless Miss Hortense has the capacity of being at two places at the same time."

* * *

24.12.1943 :

The music could be heard from where Hermione had just flooed in. The corridor was almost golden from the light of a thousand candles and the soft sound of her heels resonated in the hallway. She could feel the soft satin of her red dress against her bare legs. She looked good and she knew it. Her hair was tamed into a ballerina bun, not a hair out of place. She had chosen the perfect red lipstick to match her dress. No, Hermione didn't just look good on this night, she was absolutely ravishing.

When she turned right, at the end of the corridor, she saw the lads gathered a few meters away. Tom, in an impeccable dark suit, was vehemently talking to them, using his hands a lot. The sound of her heels made Isodor's head snap towards her and a grin bloomed on his face. He quickly elbowed Edgard, just beside him, and the boy turned around. One by one, the lads looked at her, completely losing interest in what Tom was saying. The latter, in the middle of a sentence, finally noticed her. He didn't finish what he was saying, he simply stared. Hermione wondered for half a second if she had finally managed to render him speechless. She stopped in her tracks, a few feet away from the group and held Tom's gaze.

"Gentlemen," he said to the lads, "I must leave you. My date just arrived."

He left the boys and walked towards her. His black tuxedo was perfectly fitted for his silhouette, the bow impeccably tied around his neck and contrasting with the pristine white of his shirt. As he arrived at her level, Hermione could notice the faint smell of Tom's perfume. His eyes had not left hers since he first saw her.

Hermione felt shy under his gaze. His smirk grew on his lips as he stood straight in front of her. He offered her an arm, she willingly accepted. Arm in arm, they moved towards the large steps leading to the atrium. They took in the sight for a second, the large atrium, packed with hundreds of influential people. All dressed in sublime dresses and tuxedos, talking and laughing over a flute of champagne.

Tom silently leaned towards her and let his mouth ghost over her ear. "Shall we ?" With a simple nod from her, Tom led her downstairs. They wandered towards the bar where Tom asked for two glasses of champagne. He handed it to her and they clinked their flutes, both smiling.

Hermione looked around and couldn't help but enjoy the moment. She had never seen the Ministry of Magic this way. The majestic fountain was taking the center stage, the water looking gold and otherworldly. The ministry officers were all wearing a small pin on their tuxedo vest, a glass of bourbon, or champagne in one hand and their wives on the other.

They didn't get the time to take a second sip of their drink that they were already greeted by several couples. They didn't know them particularly, they had only seen them briefly last year during Slughorn's Christmas party. Tom had this charming smile on his face. The one Hermione knew to seduce everyone. He was playing the role perfectly : the bright slytherin prefect. Hermione received some charming compliments from the couple before the two left to mingle. She heard Tom softly exhaled. "It's only the beginning, Tom." She told him. "Don't get tired already."

"As if." He smirked.

She then rose her eyes and took a good look at the place. The last time she had stepped foot in the ministry was the night she arrived in May, polyjuiced in Bellatrix Lestrange. It felt strange being here tonight. She never had the opportunity to take in the sight of this magnificent place. She looked at the hundred offices above her. From the small ones on the right to the largest, she had ever seen so far, overhanging the atrium. It looked gigantic from below.

The large bay window allowed anyone to catch a glimpse of a large wooden desk and the large bookshelves on the walls. Her eyes then fell on the large clock on the left, silently telling the time. It was not the same gold as the water of the fountain but not far. It could be seen from anywhere in the room. Finally, she noticed the lads at the back of the room. Tom followed her gaze. He took her by the waist and they walked towards the boys. However, just before joining them, Hermione stopped. "I'll be back in five." She murmured before leaving him.

From afar, she saw the ladies' room and hurried to get inside. Luckily, the room seemed empty. Hermione approached the sinks and put both of her palms on the white marble. She rose her head and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She first looked at her lips, still bright red. Then her gaze reached her cat-eyes. She looked at them for a good thirty seconds before deciding it was time. She slowly exhaled and closed her eyes. Her right hand turned into a fist, and she knocked twice on the marble.

She saw one of the toilet's door opening and a figure getting out it. They both nodded and the figure left. Hermione waited three minutes exactly before leaving too. She hid within the crowd to reach the large stairs she just descended with Tom. She quickly found her way in a deserted corridor. She took her wand out of her purse and cast a quick charm on her heels to silence them.

Hermione then took a look at her watch and saw : 8:07PM. Right on time.

She went through the maze of corridors, exactly knowing which one would be empty. She met just a few people on her way and was quick enough to hide herself when they could have seen her.

Hermione turned right to a corridor she knew was the perfect spot to hide, away from curious eyes. A spot one could use for a romantic meeting, a secret rendez-vous. Apparently, someone had already thought about that. Hermione found herself in front of a couple, urgently kissing in the darkness. She shouldn't have been surprised by the sight, she had been aware of this relationship for quite some time, she even cunningly told one of them. She felt like intruding in this special moment.

The first question on her mind was how Thorus and Silas arrived this quickly in this corridor ? Hermione had seen Nott with the lads back then. Did he know a quicker way to this corridor ?

She briefly wondered if she could go past them without making any noise. She couldn't be seen after all. But it was too late.

Thorus was looking at her, like a deer caught in a headlight, still holding Silas in his arms. They both quickly sprang apart.

"Grace," Thorus urged her, "it's not what you think."

"I didn't see you. You didn't see me." Hermione said. "This moment never happened. This conversation never happened. Am I clear, Thorus ?"

"I sw-"

"I don't care, Thorus. I really don't. I'm fine with it." She quickly reassured him. "You say nothing about me being here and I say nothing. Is it clear ?" The two boys nodded.

Hermione rushed past the both of them and ascended the stairs towards the room she was looking for twenty minutes. She stood straight in front of the deep green door with a silver handle. She took a large inhale and slowly exhaled with her mouth. It was just like last time, right ? Even easier. No one knew she was here. She opened it and stepped into the darkness.

OoOoOo

She found it, the right door leading to it, after an hour of looking for it. They were all there, just like Nicolas Flamel had assured her. She quickly snatched one.

She looked one last time at her clock : 9:27PM.

"Just like old times." She told herself. She put it around her neck, turned the hourglass twice, and let the time-turner take her back in time, two hours prior. She felt the rush around her. When she looked down her watch she saw : 7:27PM.

She had thirty minutes to go where she had to be. She almost ran down the corridors and entered the atrium, quickly looking for the ladies' room. She locked herself in one of the booths, with five minutes to spare. Hermione tried to catch her breath, feeling really thirsty. Then, she finally heard it. The two knocks on the marble. She stepped out, nodded at her other self, and went to enjoy the party.

She saw Tom where she had left him, before her little trip, with the lads and talking to Slughorn. She joined them. She talked with them like nothing had just happened. Oswald and Atticus approached their circle and settled in. Edgard dared to confront Oswald and Hermione had almost smiled at Lestrange.

Just before she found herself alone with Abraxas and Tom, Thorus had excused himself. He had talked about going to see his father, something Hermione knew was actually his secret meeting with Silas.

She then realised she had not drunk a single drop of water since she came back. Accompanied by the two boys, they reached the bar and she downed her glass in one go.

Dippet, alongside Dumbledore and Barboter, talked with the three of them for a dozen of minutes before Hermione went to join Cole and Pollux. She had fun with them, she also really liked dancing with Cole. However, her dance with Tom had not been this pleasant, she had left him alone on the dancefloor.

She thought about taking a quick break from everything. One of the tables not far from her was covered with food. She hurried to take a bite of one amuse-bouche.

"Where is your date ?" Hermione closed her eyes at Oswald's voice. It was too early to begin. She spun around and met him with a small smile.

"I cannot let a woman this beautiful alone." He had a wolfish grin. "Would you care for a dance ?"

"I- '' Hermione began but Oswald didn't let her the time to finish her sentence that he was pulling her towards the middle of the room, where people were dancing. He put his hand way too low on her back for her liking. She kept her gaze stuck on the large office overhanging the atrium and Oswald smirked at that. "Do you like it ?" He rhetorically asked her. "It will soon be mine."

They slowly swayed to the music, silent for a couple of seconds.

"Let me tell you Grace, with a dress like yours, your date should be nervous about someone stealing you away." Oswald purred in her ear. "If I were him, I wouldn't let you out of my sight."

Hermione tried to lean back, not feeling comfortable with the proximity. She shot him a small smile. "What about _your_ date, Mister Oswald ?" She said in a nonchalant tone.

"I'm not this kind of man, Grace."

"What kind are you, then ?"

Hermione saw Oswald leaning even more against her and felt his hot breath on her neck. She forced herself not to move and endure the moment. Thankfully, someone interrupted them by telling Oswald he was needed somewhere else. He kissed her hand before leaving with the other man.

She shivered from the thought that he had touched her for several minutes. It was only a few minutes after nine pm. She still had time to enjoy the night. On her way to the bar, Hermione had been stopped by several people, for greetings and small chatter. Hermione was looking for a familiar face to talk to, but the only one she saw was Dolohov's. The sight of him called her back to reality, she politely excused herself, and discreetly walked towards him. She took him by the sleeve and pulled him into a secluded area.

"What do you want ?" He barked.

"9:40PM." She reminded him.

"I know." Antonin sneered. "You've told me about a million times. I don't need your constant reminder."

"Don't fuck up Dolohov," Hermione lowered her voice, "I'm doing all the work, you only have to show in this fucking office at 9:40PM sharp."

Antonin heaved a sigh and Hermione pulled him further by his sleeve. "You gave me your word that you would do it. You can't back down now."

Antonin shrugged out of her grip and took a few steps forwards as Hermione walked backward. His eyes suddenly became darker and she gulped. She was not scared of Dolohov but at this precise moment, he looked almost dangerous.

"Why did you fucking ask me ?" He asked.

"Because you have no scruples Dolohov. You are the only twisted person I know that would have agreed to let me alone in a room with a pervert." Hermione had slowly raised her voice and abruptly stopped talking, afraid someone might overhear. She looked around her.

"If I have no scruples, as you say, how can you be sure I'd even show up at 9:40PM ?" Dolohov had used this tone, the mocking one. Hermione squinted her eyes and took a step forward.

"If you don't Dolohov, I swear-"

"Are you threatening me ?" Hermione felt the wall collide with her back as Dolohov violently shoved her against it. It lasted a fraction of a second before Antonin was pulled away from her and pushed inside the nearest door by Tom. She followed them and witnessed Tom's hand on Dolohov's collar and the rage pouring out of him. As Tom asked her to leave, she shot a last look at Dolohov.

She was upset with this entire Dolohov situation. He had the talent of getting on her nerves all the time. She had hesitated between staying with the two of them or doing what Tom asked her. In the end, leaving had been the wise choice she told herself. She ordered another glass of water at the bar and took a small verine with smoked salmon. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Thorus coming her way.

"Grace," He said in a tight voice, "may I have a word with you, _please_ ?"

Hermione took a big inhale and calmed herself. She had been at this party for almost three hours and a half. She was exhausted and Thorus' little affair with Silas was the last thing she wanted to deal with.

"Not now." She almost barked.

"It's not what you think. I can explain everything."

She faced him. Thorus was panicked, he had sweat rolling down his temple, and this look on his face. "I've asked you one thing Thorus. We're clear."

She didn't let him the time to say something else that she was already gone. She stood by the fountain and finished her water in one go. As she put the glass on a tray passing near her, she looked at the clock : 9:18PM.

She was feeling exhausted. Tom was slowly walking towards her, his left hand tightening and flexing.

He had just come to stand next to her when someone bumped into her back. Pollux, with a glass in hands and a grin on his face.

"Oh sorry." He said before noticing it was her. He frowned and looked back between the back of the room and Hermione. "H-how ?" He asked. "Am I this drunk ?"

Hermione's head turned towards where Pollux was looking, her heartbeat slightly quickening in her chest. As she saw nothing alarming, she turned back towards her friends. "You should go to drink some water Pollux." She gently told him. His brows were still furrowed in confusion and went away towards the bar.

Entered Tom. And his questions about Dolohov. And his warning about her behaviour. Then, he got closer and told her that they were the same. Her blood ran cold at this moment because even though her head was telling her it was a lie, she couldn't help but feel the truth in his words.

Atticus interrupted them, asking them about Oswald. She simply told her professor she didn't know where he was before Rookwood's voice filled the atrium. The chatter coming from the guest died down and everyone turned towards the front of the room, where a small stage was. The undersecretary had his wand on his neck, surely for the _sonorus_ he was currently using, and was urging everyone to gather. Hermione's eyes went, once again, towards the clock : 9:24PM.

Most of the lads had joined them during Tuft's speech. Dolohov for instance was next to Tom. She didn't look at him, she didn't want to.

Things were about to go down. She rose her eyes towards Avery's former office and saw what she was expecting. The deep green velvet curtain being closed. Her heart was frantically beating. She looked back towards Tuft, counted to five in her head, and left at 9:34PM precisely.

As planned, everyone's attention was directed to the Minister of Magic, so Hermione fled to the cupboard she knew to be empty. She took it out of her purse. She exhaled and tried to calm her heart.

"Okay," she whispered to herself, "one last time, Hermione."

She put the time-turner around her neck and turned it a little bit more than a quarter. Only twenty minutes back.

Hermione checked the time on her watch : 9:15PM. She stayed still inside the cupboard and listened to what was happening on the other side. After a minute and a half, she slowly opened the door, and furtively walked through the crowd. She knew this moment would be the most stressful one, her other self was only a few meters away. Hermione couldn't be seen, she needed to be as discreet as possible. Hermione was too focused on keeping calm that she didn't notice the man walking towards her. They bumped into each other. She cursed internally and looked at who she collided with.

"Watch out, kiddo." Pollux was grinning. She finally understood. In a couple of seconds, Pollux would walk towards the fountain and find her talking with Tom. Of course, he would not understand because he was just talking to her a moment before. The other Hermione, would suspect something and blame it on the alcohol.

In the meantime, she had no time to waste.

"Sorry Pollux, I have to go." She hastily replied. She walked past him and started looking for _him_.

Hermione noticed him, about to leave the atrium, at the bottom of the stairs. Her heart was about to beat out of her chest, her hands were trembling. She approached him, put on her fakest smile, and cleared her throat. Oswald turned around and a grin bloomed on his face at her sight.

"Already leaving ?" She asked. "Don't you have a speech to give ?"

"I was just about to go to my office, to fetch the said speech."

Hermione smiled and took a step closer at the same time as Oswald stepped down one stair. He offered her his hand. "I've noticed you've shown interest in this office." He told her. "Would you like a grand tour of it ?"

It was as easy as Hermione had anticipated. "I thought you'd never ask." She replied.

She gently put her hand in his and let him lead the way to the office. Oswald proudly opened the door and Hermione stepped in. The office was spectacular. The walls were filled with bookshelves, thousands of old books. She got closer to the large wooden desk filled with paperwork and magical artifacts. She let her finger linger on it as she walked around.

Then, she saw the large window, overlooking the atrium. Hermione's eyes wandered around the atrium, firstly falling on the band playing some jazz music, then on the bar where dozens of couples were laughing around a flute of champagne. Her gaze was finally drawn to two people. Red and Black. They were so close that from up here she could almost believe them to be kissing.

"Impressive, Mister Oswald." She turned around and looked at him. He was leaning against the now-closed door, his legs crossed at his ankle. He had a satisfied look on his face as if he had just got what he wanted. His eyes followed her movement as she went by one of the bookshelves. Hermione looked at the books, gently touching their leathery covers.

She heard his footsteps getting closer to her. As he arrived at her level, she walked to the other side, with a flirty smile.

"Do you still want to work for the Ministry after Hogwarts ?" Stilton asked her.

"I'd like to." She replied. "I don't know if I'll be able to find a job though."

Oswald slowly walked towards her and let a heavy silence fill the room. "You could have a _friend_ in the ministry now, Grace." The emphasis he had put on "friend" left no doubt about his intention. Hermione simply laughed and another long silence settled. He stopped just in front of her and Hermione had not lowered her gaze once. She saw him slightly leaning towards her mouth and she gently ducked it. She found herself behind the desk, both of her hands on the leather chair. She looked at what was laying on it. Hermione could feel his gaze on her, on her frame, her hips, her lips.

Oswald was still by the bookshelves when Hermione looked back at him. She quickly looked at the clock by the door : 9:33PM. Oswald didn't even hear Rookwood's voice announcing Tuft's speech. He didn't even realise he was expected to talk in a few minutes. He was too focused on her.

She knew it was time. Hermione had always been brave, she was a Gryffindor after all. It was like ripping off a bandage, she thought. Quick and effective.

"I know what you're doing, Grace." He said. Hermione playfully cocked an eyebrow.

"And what am I doing ?" Hermione coyly asked.

"Don't pretend you don't know." He was extremely slowly walking towards her, once again. She took a hold of the deep green velvet curtain and slowly began to close it. "Since the first time we met, you've been teasing me, Grace." His voice was dangerously low. "Since that day in Atticus' office, with your short skirt, your eyes, and your fake innocence." He was only a few feet away. "I've seen the way you behaved in Hogsmeade. I've felt your burning skin, I've felt your lust."

Hermione was trying not to focus on his words, disgusted by what he was saying. She kept the smile on her face. She was still slowly closing the curtain.

"You know what you're doing when you're calling me Mister Oswald."

Hermione looked at him. "Pray tell me, Mister Oswald." She heard his low laugh as she looked down the atrium. A few seconds before having the curtain entirely closed, she saw herself in the crowd, looking right at her. She nodded

"You know it turns me on." Oswald explained as she finished closing the curtain.

Hermione didn't have the time to fully turn towards him that he was already pushing her on the desk, his mouth hovering over the sensitive skin of her neck. As he whispered filthy things in her ear, she looked at the clock. Dolohov would be there in four minutes. She only had to endure four minutes.

Oswald's hand was slowly sliding up from her knee to her hip, raising her dress at the same time. His mouth was slowly reaching up to her lips, Hermione turned her head to the side so the kiss would fall on her cheek. He laughed against her skin, apparently pleased by the challenge. Hermione tried to keep her gaze on the clock : 9:38PM. Only two minutes, Dolohov would be there in only two minutes. Oswald took hold of her jaw and violently turned her head to him and pressed his lips against hers. His grip was almost bruising her as his tongue invaded her mouth. One last glance at the clock : 9:39PM.

Hermione tried to get away from his hold. She moved her head to the side to get his hand to loosen around her jaw, but it simply made him hold her closer. He bit her lower lip and Hermione tasted the blood in her mouth. She put both of her hands on his chest to push him away but he only pressed himself closer. Hermione scratched him in retaliation.

"Stop." She said and repeated it louder. Loud enough so the people outside the room could hear. The people Dolohov had brought to the office, just as she had told him to do. She repeated it, but no one came. Maybe he was just a couple of seconds late, she was expecting the door to open at any moment. She was waiting for someone to push Oswald away from her. Yet, the only thing that happened at this moment was Stilton Oswald pressing his erection against her thigh. His hand had finally reached what they were looking for. Hermione's eyes widened at the touch and closed her thighs as much as she could before Oswald forced them open. The clock showed : 9:41PM.

When she had planned Oswald's downfall, she had known Dolohov would be the only one to accept it. To willingly let her inside a room with a pervert. His only task was to step inside with two Aurors at 9:40PM sharp to witness Oswald sexually assaulting her, arresting him, and making him unfit for the job. But Dolohov never showed up. He willingly let her inside this room alone with a pervert. She had thought Dolohov would do it, entering the room with the Aurors just as planned, not for her obviously but for their common purpose.

She began to panic, she was not supposed to be with him past 9:40PM. With all of her force, she shoved him away and fell on her knees at the same time. Her whole body was shaking.

"Feisty little one." Oswald laughed.

With her trembling hands, she looked through her purse for her wand however the only thing she took a hold of was the time turner. Oswald grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him. "Stop being a tease." He said. She shrugged out of his hold and she crawled towards her bag, towards where the time-turner had just fallen on the floor. She had her right arm reaching towards it, almost feeling it underneath her finger-tips. But Oswald gripped her ankle and pulled her back. Hermione's finger clutching at the carpet. Hermione's eyes were still stuck on the time-turner. She heard the loud steps of Oswald coming in front of her. He stepped on it. Crashed it. Destroyed it.

Hermione's tears rolled on her cheeks, unable to tear her gaze away from the remains of the time-turner. He then pulled her up by the arms and pushed her once more against the desk. She struggled to get away, but he was stronger than she was. She began screaming but he put his hand on her mouth and murmured deep inside her ear to stay quiet and just enjoy the moment.

Oswald put a hand underneath one of her straps, beginning to undress her. Hermione pushed him away and felt the fabric of her dress being ripped at the shoulder. She pushed herself from the desk, one hand clutching at her strap to keep her dress on. Oswald had already unbuttoned his shirt and was beginning to unzip his fly. Hermione ran towards the window to get as far away from him as possible. But in only two large strides, Oswald had her against the window, her chest pressed against the glass, and her dress raised above her bottom, bunching around her waist and a firm hand in her now-loose hair.

Hermione was scared at this moment, she was feeling him against her bare skin. She had never wanted this scene to be public, that was why she had asked Dolohov. What other choice did she have but to let the world see what was happening ?

Her shaking hand finally grasped the curtain and she screamed. A scream so loud, high, and filled with fear. The deep green velvet curtain fell and the entire atrium was looking up at her. At herself clutching her strap, at her hair dishevelled, at her tears on her face, at Oswald half-dressed behind her.

The whole atrium witnessed the downfall of Stilton Oswald.

OoOoOo

She was clutching at Tom's tuxedo vest, slightly rocking back and forth on her chair. She had answered all the questions that had been asked.

She had lied about not being with Oswald for the last thirty minutes. After all, she was with Tom. Listening to the speech. The lads had seen her. Everyone saw her at Tom's side during the speech.

Oswald had told the Aurors that she had been teasing him for thirty minutes in his office, that she was the one who came onto him. But how could anyone believe him when they all saw her in the atrium at the same moment ?

She left the Auror's office, not meeting Tom's eyes as he went inside for his own interview. She had been led into a small room and had been offered a steaming tea. She was finally alone. She hovered her hand above Tom's right pocket and felt the debris of the time-turner. She was not only supposed to use it tonight. She had plans. She had wanted to study it, to maybe find a way to invert it. This was the only night she could take one, her only opportunity. For several minutes, Hermione cursed herself from letting it be broken. She didn't care about what had happened with Oswald, the only thing that mattered was that she had fucked up with the time-turner.

Once again, she had a plan. And once again, it failed.

Suddenly, the door opened and Tom followed by Dolohov entered. The lads joined them half a second after. Without even thinking, Hermione rose from her seat and went to jump on Dolohov but Tom caught her before she could.

"You bastard !" She screamed at Dolohov. She didn't notice Thorus casting a _silencio_. "One thing !" She kept yelling. "I asked you for one thing you fucker."

"What's happening ?' Abraxas intervened.

Tom was still holding Hermione back, slightly frowning.

"I have no idea what she's on about." Dolohov cooly replied. "She must still be under shock."

Hermione tried to push Tom away but he was too strong. "I'm gonna kill you." She threatened Dolohov, still trashing in Tom's arms. "I asked you one thing you fucker. One stupid thing."

"Calm down Grace," Thorus tried to soothe her. "You must still be under shock."

"It was fucking planned, Thorus !" She yelled at him. Everyone stilled and stared, Tom included.

"What are you talking about ?" Edmund asked.

"I've planned the whole thing. This was my fucking plan !" Hermione replied. "Oswald's been sleeping with Gemma for months, he likes young girls."

"And he has liked you for a while." Abraxas acknowledged.

"Yes Malfoy," Hermione snapped, "that's why I'm wearing this dress, those heels, this make-up. That's why I've asked him to show me his office. And that's why I've let him believe I was into him."

Tom was staring at her, not saying a thing. His eyes were stuck on her face.

"And I asked him one thing." Hermione pointed to Dolohov. "Only t-"

"You've succeeded without me, Hortense. Oswald's out. It's only a matter of time before Avery's reinstated." Dolohov cut her off.

"I've succeeded ?" She repeated, astonished. "You've left me in this room, well aware of what was happening behind closed doors. At least show some guilt." She spat.

"You knew ?" Milton asked Dolohov. "You knew and you did nothing ?"

"Of course he knew," Hermione barked, "who else would have accepted my plan if not a psychopath ?"

Dolohov took a step forward at the insult but Tom only had to shoot him one glance for him to back off. "Don't you even dare talk to me that way Hortense." Antonin growled.

"Or what ?" She snapped back.

"You cu-" Dolohov began, his hand over his holster, ready to put out his wand.

She felt Tom's stiffen. In a fraction of second, he turned his head towards Dolohov, let go of her, and took Antonin by the shirt, his wand underneath the other boy's chin. "Finish your sentence, Dolohov." He threatened him with a low voice.

"Oh come on Tom, she's fine. And Oswald's done." Dolohov tried to keep his tone light underneath the fear he was currently feeling. No one talked, no one moved. They were all staring at Tom, waiting for him to do something.

"You are lucky she made it out fine," Tom pushed his wand deeper into Antonin's skin. He didn't need to finish his sentence, everyone had already understood what he meant. Hermione was silently looking at the scene, she had not thought Tom would have this reaction. He suddenly let go of Dolohov, violently shoving him away. "All of you, out." He ordered the lads as he turned around to stare at her.

Once the lads out, Tom approached her. She had not moved an inch since he had let go of her. He was still slowly walking towards her, his eyes boring into hers. He opened his mouth to speak but the door to the room opened and an auror asked for Hermione one last time. She pulled his vest off of her shoulders to give him back and followed the man to another room. People were chatting in the hallway, and what surprised her was that they were not talking about her. They were talking about something far more interesting she believed.

* * *

24.12.1943 :

Tom was leaning on the stairs' banister. The one leading to the atrium. Surprisingly, the party still went on. It was not as alive as it was before the assault, but people were still talking or sitting at one of the tables. The music was lower too.

He heard her heels before he saw her. She leaned next to him. Without saying a word, he lit a cigarette and handed it to her.

"He's done." She said.

"Why did you do that ?" He asked. "Why did you ask Dolohov for help ?"

Grace turned her head and looked at him. "Who else ? You ?" She took a long drag of the cigarette before giving it back to Tom.

"Why not ? I would have let you inside the room, but unlike Dolohov I would have made sure none of that happened."

She let out a small laugh at that and fully turned towards him. Tom was still watching her, from the corner of his eyes as he smoked. "Don't you remember, Tom ?" She said. "You didn't want to know about how I would deal with him. You only told me to find him, crush him, and make him ineligible. Haven't I made you proud, Tom ?"

"So you have gone this far out of what ? Pettiness ?"

"And I outdid myself, Tom."

Tom laughed. He looked back at the crowd and let a small silence settle before talking again.

"Why make your plan this difficult, then ?"

"It wasn't supposed to be difficult. I only had to put on a pretty dress and flirt a bit." She shrugged.

Tom secured the cigarette between his lips before shoving his hand inside his right pocket, pulling out the broken time-turner and putting it on the banister. "Not difficult, you said ?"

Grace's eyes widened at the sight of the object. She had frozen on the spot, her gaze stuck on the broken artifact. She finally looked at him and the silence persisted. He took one last drag and offered her the remaining of the cigarette, which she took with a shaky hand.

"How many Grace were there tonight ?" He said.

"Three." She whispered. She briefly explained what she had done. "The first one to retrieve the time-turner. The second to show up at the party, to be seen, to have an alibi. And the third one to finish Oswald." Tom was still looking into her eyes and felt something he never felt before. He felt his heartbeat slowly increasing in his chest, he felt his mind rushing with thoughts of her. She was, without a doubt, the brightest witch he had ever met.

"You never cease to amaze me." He told her.

"I'm not finished." She added. "I know what the new department is for."

They were still, the music was slowly fading away as they looked at each other. Not aware of what was happening around them.

Her hair was a mess, her lips were ruined and her mascara almost gone from the tears. Her dress was ripped at the shoulder and sadly falling on her frame. Her eyes, usually bright, were still red from crying. She was a mess.

"You have never looked this beautiful, Grace." He said, meaning every word. She was beautiful in every way.

She was everything he had ever looked for. She had just destroyed a man's life for him, without questioning him. She had put her life in danger for him. He had never thought her to be this loyal and yet here she was, handing him more than he could ever ask for.

She had never been a real part of the lads. No, she was above them. She was above everyone.

Every time Tom expected something of her, she outdid herself, leaving Tom gobsmacked. Every time Tom thought he fully knew her, she went and blew him away. Again, and again, and again.

"Maybe you were right Tom," she said in a soft voice, "maybe we're one and the same." If Tom hadn't been too focused on the way she looked at this instant and on the way his heart was frantically beating, he would have noticed the reluctance of her tone.

Yet, Tom could have kissed her at this moment.

* * *

 **Author's notes** **: Did we make you proud ? Only two weeks. We've outdone ourselves.**

 **Actually this chapter's original idea was far far away from this (except Oswald's assault), but we wanted to do something with a time-turner so we completely changed the plot.**

 **Plus, 150k later Tom finally realised he had feelings for her. We have warned about a slow burn - it's a good slow burn. Now it's Hermione's time we guess.**

 **Also, we're shipping her with Cole a lot. Like a lot. If you could have seen us while writing them dance, we were literally thinking about making this the main ship : colemione ?**

 **We're really sorry if we trigerred anyone with the sexual assault.**

 **Lots of love,**

 **-DDM's Managers**


	20. YOU BROKE ME FIRST

" **Dying is a Delicate Moment"**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her.

 **CHAPTER TWENTY : YOU BROKE ME FIRST**

* * *

 _Song : You broke me first by Tate McRae_

03.01.1944 :

The rain had not been pouring for more than two minutes that Hermione was already drenched. A few feet ahead, Pollux was laughing as he ran towards the nearest tree, the big one near the Black Lake. She increased the speed and joined him, breathless but a grin plastered on her face. Pollux was laughing, his right hand dishevelling his wet hair. He took out a cigarette from his pocket and put it in his mouth. Hermione cocked an eyebrow at the wet fag and laughed. He looked through his pockets to take out a small silver lighter, Pollux saw the way Hermione's eyes glowed at the sight. He dramatically lit it up and dove in the sound of her laughter.

"I can see you got my present, then." Hermione said. Pollux nodded and put the lighter back inside his pocket.

"I haven't started reading your book, though. It seems quite interesting. What is it again ?" Pollux claimed not remembering.

" _Take out the wand in your arse and start using it._ " Hermione snickered. "From what I've heard, it is the best-seller in personal development."

Pollux just chuckled and leaned against the tree, pushing his hair away from his eyes every ten seconds. Hermione joined him and looked at the Black Lake. Everything was peaceful at this moment, there only was the soothing sound of the rain and the two of them. It was perfect. They waited in silence. It was not an uncomfortable one, on the contrary, it was reassuring. It was as if they didn't need to speak to let the other know what they were thinking or feeling.

Slowly, the rain began to die down and Hermione pulled Pollux by the wrist for them to run back to the castle. However, the latter pulled her back under the tree.

"Just a little longer." He said. She looked into his eyes and saw the tiredness. She knew he had not spent a good holiday, he had not had a minute for himself between Cassandre and the growing responsibilities his father was giving him. He only needed a little break and Hermione beamed at the fact she was his little break. She leaned against him and felt his arm gently resting on her shoulders, allowing her to put her head on his chest. It was peaceful.

* * *

03.01.1944 :

Tom had gotten accustomed to the silence of the common room during the holidays, which was why he was feeling the beginning of headache due to noisiness surrounding him. The students had just gotten back and were all gathered near the fireplace.

"He doesn't know." Edgard said when the door to the common room opened. Tom slowly moved his head towards it and witnessed Grace and Pollux stepping in, drenched from the rain outside. They were both laughing out loud as if they had just heard the funniest joke.

Tom was still aware of the conversation taking place between the lads, however, he had his eyes on her, on the way the two friends approached the HeadBoy.

"How do you think he'll react ?" Abraxas asked Lestrange.

Her cheeks were slightly pink and Tom wondered if it was from the cold outside. It suited her.

"How do _you_ think he'll react ?" Edgard snapped back. Abraxas simply leaned back on the couch.

She was laughing, her head tipped backward. Her hair, still damped, was beginning to curl and Tom saw Pollux carding his fingers through it. By the look on her face, she seemed to enjoy the soft touch. Then, Cole put out a small box from his coat and handed it to her. Tom frowned at the sight. She took the present and opened it before awkwardly hugging her friend.

"I already se-" Edgard began.

"Well," Tom interrupted him while getting up, "I will see you on the fifth floor."

Tom got rid of the wrinkles on his pants before walking towards where she was. He greeted the two seventh-year then turned towards her.

"Grace," He smiled, "I'm glad to see you."

"How can I help you, Tom ?" She smiled back. If Tom hadn't known better, he could have thought this smile to be filled with hypocrisy. However, he did know her. And this smile was nothing but playful.

"Am I not allowed to greet you now ?"

"If only you have asked this before, this conversation would have never taken place." She smirked. A small laugh almost escaped his mouth.

"Did you receive my last letter ?" Tom asked her as she squinted her eyes. She knew what he was doing and he liked that. On his left, Cole was slightly frowning. "I was afraid you would not get it on time. After your last letter, I knew it w-"

"I did." She cut short. "Thank you."

A small silence settled without Tom tearing his gaze away from her. Pollux must have sensed the tension so he cleared his throat.

"How were your holidays ?" Parkinson bluntly asked him.

"Good."

"How was your birthday ?" Grace smirked.

 _I have never told anyone about my birthday._

 _How could she know ?_

"Good." He told her. "Thank you for your very thoughtful present." Tom saw, by the small frown between her eyebrows, that she didn't understand. Before she could contradict him, Tom talked. "I am sorry but I need to steal her away from you, I need to show Grace something." He delicately put his hand around her arm and they walked out of the common room towards where the lads were waiting for them.

Once out of earshot, she shrugged out of his touch and Tom felt the warmth slowly disappearing.

"Very thoughtful present ?" She snorted. "You know I've never sent you anything."

"I know. But _he_ does not."

There was no doubt about who he was referencing to.

"I've never imagined you to be this childish, Tom." Grace told him off.

"It seems you still have things to learn about me." He smirked. She shot him a strange look, one Tom didn't fully understand.

* * *

03.01.1944 :

Once they arrived in front of the door, he let her step inside first and made sure to put his hand on her lower back as she walked in. The lads were scattered around the room. Abraxas was smoking, sitting on the windowsill. Thorus, Edmund, and Edgard were playing rummy around the table and Isodor, who would usually be looking upon Lestrange's shoulder to give his cards away to his opponents, was sitting on his own, skimming through a newspaper. Antonin was casually seated in the large leather chair at the back of the room, a book in his hands. Finally, Milton was focusing on what seemed to be an essay.

Tom cleared his throat and the chatter died down. They all turned towards the two and slowly got up to sit at their respective seats. Abraxas and Antonin had always been seated directly next to Tom, and Hermione next to Malfoy. Yet, something changed on this third of January. Instead of pulling her usual chair, Tom pulled Abraxas' one for her, silently inviting her to sit. No one talked. They were all staring at the scene and Hermione was staring at him. She didn't know what to do but sit, so she did.

 _Something has shifted, Hermione._

She saw Abraxas frozen on the other side of the room, sending daggers at her. Thorus put a hand on his shoulders and leaned towards his ear to whisper something to him. The blond only nodded and sat where she usually did.

Hermione then looked in front of her and saw Dolohov looking right at her. She felt her skin itching at the sight and her blood boiling in her veins but she couldn't do anything. She just smiled.

"Welcome back, everyone." Tom started. "I hope 1944 will be as thriving for us as 1943." He looked at each person around the table before continuing. "As everyone knows, Samson Avery has been reinstated, thanks to Grace who did a remarkable job." He looked at her as he said the last words. Hermione knew everyone was pleased with the news.

"Where do we stand in the new department ?" Thorus asked the table. He then looked at Isodor and kept going. "Do you have any intel from your father ?"

"He's just been reinstated," Isodor replied with a seriousness Hermione had rarely seen, "and you know, with the all Oswald fiasco," his eyes quickly flickered to her face, "Tuft is not keen on letting anyone know about the department."

"Yet." Dolohov chipped in. "Our fathers," he said while showing Isodor and himself, "are working closely together to get more information."

"Are they still trying to get your father to work at the Ministry again?" Lestrange asked. "I've heard that Rookwood is try-"

"We do not need another person under Rookwood. We already _have_ Rookwood." Tom said.

"I suppose Pilliwickle will not take Dolohov Senior back in the law enforcement department since he took his place." Milton said.

"Their relationship is not the best." Antonin said.

"Your father had had an auror training, right ?" Hermione asked him. Dolohov looked at her and sneered.

"He was the head of the Law Enforcement Department, Hortense."

"I've heard from someone that Longbottom Senior is retiring and that Head Auror Mator is looking for someone to take this job."

Edmund frowned and leaned on the table to look her in the eyes. "Wasn't he in charge of the Muggle Prime Minister's guard ?"

"Indeed, he was." Hermione smiled. She shot a quick glance at Tom and they shared a small smile. She sat straighter in her chair and slightly scooch forwards. The lads, in the time she'd been in the meetings, knew that those were the signs she knew something important. They were all waiting for her to keep explaining.

"Prime Minister Winston Churchill," Hermione explained, "also known among a few as _Black Dog_ , a muggle saying to characterise the depression he is suffering from." She stopped for a few seconds to let the small bit of information sink in. No one seemed to understand so she kept explaining. " _Black Dog,_ or the code name Atticus Aldritch and Stilton Oswald used during the Quidditch World Cup when I heard them. _Black Dog,_ the two words I've kept hearing in the Auror department while I gave my statement at Christmas."

"What does that mean ?" Milton asked.

"Well, Milton, it means that the Department of Transitional Relations and Social Groups Cohesion is all about the union between Muggles and Wizards. It means, Milton, that from now on Winston Churchill will have a say in Wizarding Politics. It means Milton, that on top of Tuft and Grindelwald, we have someone else to worry about. And what else can we do to make sure it doesn't get out of control but to be as close as possible to him ?" Hermione looked back at Dolohov and waited for him to nod, which he eventually did.

"I'll send my father a letter then." Antonin said.

"Already done." Tom told him. Hermione smiled. Indeed, their correspondence during the holidays had been quite fruitful.

On the night of the Ministry party, Hermione only had the time to briefly explain the situation, what she had heard. But, she got the time to write plenty in the many letters they sent each other during the last two weeks. Between witticism and other pleasantries, they had planned.

They kept talking, mainly about the implications of having the muggle prime minister involved in their politics. Hermione was already aware of everything that was being said. She looked around the table and her gaze landed on Thorus.

She couldn't imagine what he was feeling since she had stumbled upon _them_. He had tried to talk to her, surely afraid of what she would think or even say. She didn't have the time back then, she had other matters to take care of. She kept staring, well aware he was feeling her gaze. Yet, he didn't meet hers.

Tom finally dismissed everyone. Hermione jumped out of her seat and approached Thorus while Tom took Isodor by the arm to talk to him.

"Thorus," she said in a soft voice, "can we talk ?"

"Er, I don't have time." He couldn't look her in the eyes.

"We can talk about it. I'm fine with it. I-"

"I have to go." Thorus fled out of the room. Hermione didn't move, she simply stared at where her friend was a few seconds prior. Someone, behind her back, cleared his throat to announce his presence.

"Hortense ?" Antonin's voice reached her ears. Hermione closed her eyes and deeply inhaled before turning around to face him. "About that night," he began, "no hard feelings, right ?"

On the exterior, it seemed as if she had almost forgotten about the incident. However, on the inside, she was a few seconds away from lashing out. Anyone who would have experienced what she went through at the Christmas party, would have already made him pay for it. However, she wasn't anyone. She was Hermione Granger. And what was Hermione Granger the best at ? Making plans. And that was what she did.

"No hard feelings." Hermione smiled.

OoOoOo

06.01.1944 :

Hermione had woken up to the soft sound of water against her dorm's windows. She looked at the clock and noticed how late she was. After using the bathroom she descended to the Great Hall for breakfast. The lads and Tom were already at their usual places. She greeted them and went to sit next to Edmund, at the end of the group. But the latter scooched on the bench to let the place in front of Tom available for her. Hermione stopped in her tracks and just frowned.

 _Is it part of his manipulation ?_

She briefly wondered what all of this meant. She understood, three days before, that something had shifted as she took Malfoy's place. However, she didn't fully understand what _this_ was. None of the lads seemed to mind in the least, they were all still eating breakfast. Antonin and Abraxas talking about DADA, Milton in the middle of a conversation with some fourth-year students and Isodor chatting with Cassandre Parkinson on the far right.

Hermione glanced at the youngest Parkinson and wondered what he was doing here. He didn't have the habit of eating breakfast with them.

She slowly sat down. Tom had not risen his eyes away from the _Daily Prophet_. She began to pour herself tea and fill her plate with some food. Suddenly, Riddle put a letter next to her plate. When she looked up at him, he was already staring.

"You were late." He simply said. "I collected your mail."

Hermione didn't say anything, she just took the letter in her hands and recognized Flamel's handwriting. She didn't dare turn the letter around to check if he had already opened it.

"I did not." He told her, exactly knowing what she was thinking. "Did not have the time." He joked. Hermione felt something strange. Tom was in too good of a mood.

She cocked an eyebrow then tore the envelope open. She had waited for Flamel's response for days now. She had explained everything to him, how the time turner broke, how she felt miserable knowing she had messed up, once again. Nicolas' words were nothing but reassuring. He always had the ability to cheer her up and put her hopes up. She briefly looked down at her left arm, at where she knew her holster was, at where she had hidden the galleon. She had not received any messages, she had sent plenty though. She was still hoping it would work.

Silently, Abraxas handed Tom a letter and pointed to a specific paragraph. Tom cocked his head and slowly took hold of the said letter. He read it while eating a toast with butter. "A painting ?"

Hermione became alert at the word.

"We don't care about that, it's not important. However, _this_ " Abraxas pointed to a sentence, "is the important part."

"How could it not be important ?" Tom genuinely asked Malfoy. "You just got yourself a portrait. It is an honour. You have even said yourself having a painting is one of the ways to stay in history."

"Whatever."

Abraxas shrugged and busied himself in the making of a toast. Hermione heard the loud laugh of Pollux and looked as he entered the Great Hall. She shot him a large smile before opening the _Daily Prophet_.

The newspaper's front page was announcing the disturbing disappearance of Gringotts' biggest investor, Gideon Barborter. Apparently, the financier had last been seen ten days ago and had not been heard from since. The name rang a bell. Her head snapped up and she looked at Tom.

"Tom ?" She said as she showed him the journal, "Isn't he the man we met at the Christmas Party ?"

Tom squinted his eyes and read the headline. "You are right." He said.

"He was involved in shady business." Abraxas chipped in, his mouth half full. "I'm not even surprised he disappeared."

"It was bound to happen sooner or later." Dolohov added.

Pollux arrived behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She rose her head and grinned. "Nasty disappearance." The Parkinson heir commented. He then looked at each lad and smiled. "Feelin' alright there, Avery ?" He asked Isodor. Hermione turned her head towards the boy and saw that all the blood had drained from his face. He was avoiding everyone's gaze.

"Yeah, yeah." Avery weakly replied. "Actually no." He rose and put a hand on Cassandre's shoulder to stabilize himself. "I'm going to go lie down for a bit." On this, he left the room.

Hermione watched as Isodor exited the Great Hall, feeling anxious for her friend. "Is he alright ?" She asked the others.

"Just tired." Thorus said. Hermione felt the uneasiness in Thorus' answer.

"Pumpkin juice ?" Tom asked her, a pitcher of juice in his hand. She stared at him in disbelief.

OoOoOo

06.04.1944 :

Dumbledore dismissed the class after giving them an essay to write for the next day. Hermione gathered her belongings and looked for Thorus in the crowd of students leaving the room. She caught a glimpse of the sixth-year and ran towards him before losing him in the sea of students outside.

"We're gonna talk." She told him and gripped him by the arm. Surprisingly, he followed her to an empty classroom without haste.

"We have runes in fifteen minutes, Grace." Nott warned her. She got closer to him as he walked backward, until he hit a desk and sat on it.

"You're going to listen to me Thorus." She said. "I need you to understand that what I've seen doesn't change anything. You're still the same you. Silas is still the same. Nothing is wron-"

"Nothing wrong ?" Nott stood up. "Two boys together ? Nothing wrong ? Are you out of your bloody mind ?" He almost shouted.

"Thorus, Thorus," Hermione put her hands on his shoulders and forced him to look into her eyes. "Maybe people think this is wrong, but I promise you that it is not. The society is wrong, not you."

"You don't even know what you're talking about." He sadly laughed.

"Does it really matter that I don't ? Does it change the fact that I've never seen you as happy as you are when you're with him ?"

Thorus lowered his gaze but Hermione took his chin. "I knew Thorus, I knew all along. And nothing is wrong." She repeated. Thorus' eyes widened at the information. Hermione sensed he wouldn't dare ask her why, surely afraid of the answer "I'm betrothed, Grace." He said in a small voice. Hermione wasn't shocked by the news, she knew every lad had their future life planned, wedding included. However, it broke her to hear Thorus say that. "To my fucking best friend's sister !" Thorus rose his voice.

Hermione frowned, not fully comprehending. Then, everything made sense. The way Isodor abruptly left this morning, the fact that he had not been feeling well since he came back from holidays. Thorus was to be married to Helsie Avery.

"Does Silas know ?" She asked him.

"Of course he does." Thorus sighed. "And you know what is worse ? He's still here." Thorus walked a few meters away from her and put his head in his hands. "He doesn't complain, he doesn't make me feel bad about it. He listens to me whine and he just makes the pain go away." When he turned around, Hermione saw the tears in his eyes. "I'm going to break him, Grace. I know when, I know where, I know why, I know how. I'm going to break his heart and we're both aware of it."

Hermione couldn't help herself, she pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry, Grace." Thorus sobbed against her shoulder. "For everything I said last year, for not trying harder, for being a shit friend when you badly needed one."

"Tell me about him." She whispered. And he did. He told her everything.

As Thorus narrated how he fell in love with Silas Burnstein, Hermione finally understood some things. Why Thorus Nott and Helsie Avery waited so long to have a child. Why when Helsie Avery died, Thorus never remarried or even dated. Why Thorus was the main contributor to the small library Silas Burstein was the owner of, in a small village in Scotland. None of the two would ever act on it in the future.

Hermione knew the two boys would never fall out of love.

They made it to Runes on time.

* * *

10.01.1944 :

Tom was skimming through Slughorn's private cabinet in the search of dragon scales. He was looking at his reflection in the glass door of one of the shelves. More specifically, looking at his scar, the one coming from his right eyebrow to the middle of his cheek.

It had been a year today since Grindelwald's attack. At breakfast, Dippet had talked to the students and paid his respect to the lives lost. The atmosphere around the castle was heavy on this griefing day as if no one dared enjoy their day.

Tom walked back into the room, imperatively passing by Dolohov's desk as he was brewing right next to the door and sat down in front of his cauldron. As he let his potion simmer, Tom looked around the room. Walburga Black was reading her potion book not far from him. Since Cassandre's official betrothal, she had not been her usual self. Naturally extravagant, Walburga had slowly become secluded and reserved. Tom was almost feeling glad for it, he was one of those who thought she spoke too much. His eyes kept wandering around the room until they fell on her. Absently stirring her potion while laughing with Slughorn. She knew her ways with him, she exactly knew when to laugh, how to laugh to make it sound real when she actually had no care in the world for what the large potion master was saying.

Tom had always been captivated by Grace. Since the beginning, because she was an enigma. But now that he had finally realised what it meant, he embraced it.

She then seemed to be looking for something on her desk when Slughorn pointed to the little storage room and Grace smiled before leaving to retrieve what she had been missing. The potion professor walked towards his desk and took a good look at Tom's work.

"As always," Slughorn began, "perfect colour, Tom."

"Thank you professor." The prefect smiled. "By the way, I really enjoyed last night's dinner."

"It is always a pleasure to have you and the boys over." Horace quickly looked behind his shoulder to where Grace had just returned and smiled. "I was thinking you could maybe come with Grace next time."

"I shall do so, sir."

"Of course, you don't have to say it was my idea." Slughorn chuckled. "I really am happy for you Tom. It seems like you've found the right match for you."

 _You don't say, professor._

"She wa-" Tom began but a loud noise coming from the front of the room stopped him. Everyone turned around and witnessed Antonin covered with red slime, matching his burning cheeks.

"What is this all about ?" Slughorn demanded the boy and stormed towards him. Everyone else was snickering at Dolohov's mistake.

"I-I don't know." Dolohov said. "I followed the recipe. I don't understand."

"What is that ?" Slughorn took something on Dolohov's desk in his hand. "This is a first-year mistake Dolohov. You never mix berry woods with dragon scale. Was I wrong taking you in this class ? I've always known you lacked a certain rigor for potions but I never imagined you being this careless."

Since the beginning of the term, Antonin had had his head in the clouds, always misplacing his belongings, forgetting to bring his homework, arriving late for classes, being clumsy.

Tom quite enjoyed the entertainment this brought.

OoOoOo

11.01.1944 :

Tom went up the stairs two out of time, trying to get warmer. Fortunately, it was not raining. He arrived at the top of the bleachers and spotted the lads. They all looked surprised to see him during a Quidditch training. He sat down next to one of them and lounged back.

"What are you doing here ?" Thorus asked confused. Tom turned his head to look at Nott and noticed that all gazes were turned towards him.

"Rosier has been bugging me off forever with the new broom he got for Christmas. I thought I would come and see."

The lads looked at each other and said nothing. Tom focused on the game taking place on the pitch. Pollux Parkinson, as usual, was messing with his teammates, his keeper helmet on.

"Where's Milton ?" Tom asked the lads.

"Where do you think he is ?" Isodor snickered. Tom glared at Avery and the latter quickly shut his mouth.

Tom rarely came to see the training, firstly he was not that interested in the sport even though he kept up with the news. It wasn't even a real match they were watching. And secondly, it wasn't even enjoyable, staying outside in the cold.

But he knew she always came.

What surprised him though was that she was not here.

"She's on the other side, Tom." Thorus leaned towards him to whisper. Indeed she was.

"Why ?"

"Don't get obsessed, Tom. It's always like that with you. Once you find something you like, you get obsessed. She's not a thing."

"Why is she on the other side ?" Tom asked again, completely dismissing Thorus' comment.

"She never spends training with us. Always with Cole." Nott finally explained. "Ho-" Thorus stopped talking abruptly, Tom looked at him. Nott seemed conflicted.

"Tell me." Tom almost ordered. "You have information, spill it out."

Thorus let out a long exhale. "We're not in a meeting, Tom."

"Why are Cole Woodcroft and Grace five feet apart on the other side of the bleachers, Thorus ?"

"They've been off since the beginning of the term. We don't know why though."

Tom stood up and turned one last time towards Thorus. "And for your information Thorus, I always get the things I obsess over."

* * *

18.01.1944 :

Hermione knew she would only be gone for a couple of minutes, just the time to get some tea. She entered the kitchen when someone bumped into her. Cole was standing there.

"Sorry." He mumbled. "Oh." He added when he noticed it was her. They kept looking at each other, both sensing the awkwardness. Since Cole had kind of told her about his feelings at the dance, things have been awkward between them. It was the first time they found themselves alone. Usually, Pollux was always there.

"I was just leaving." Cole said.

Hermione was about to talk when a house-elf stopped her in her tracks. "Your meal will be ready in a few, Master Woodcroft." The elf then noticed her. "Your usual, Mistress Hortense ?" She nodded. A heavy silence settled while the elf walked away.

Hermione cocked an eyebrow and looked at her friend.

"Obviously I just lied." Cole tried to laugh his way out of it.

"Obviously you did." Hermione said frowning. "Why ?"

"I don't know Grace." He sharply answered.

Hermione almost flinched.

"I didn't mean to snap." Cole said. "All of this," he showed the space between the two with his hands, "is my fault. I shouldn't have said anything that night. Hell, we can't even talk to each other without Pollux being here." He slightly scratched the nape of his neck. Hermione didn't know if she ought to speak up or not. "Why is this so awkward ?" Cole bitterly laughed.

"Can we just skip that part ?" Hermione asked. "And just go straight back to being friends ?"

"Yes, you're right. Yes. Let's do that." He smiled. They both sat down at the table.

They were both smiling at each other. However, they let the silence come back, even weirder than the first one.

"We need to talk about it." Hermione acknowledged.

"You're right." He nodded, ready to listen to what she had to say.

"I don't look at Tom in a certain way." She said. Cole blinked twice before lounging back, apparently appalled by what she had just said.

 _Have you said something wrong ?_

"Right. So when you said we should talk about it, you meant you and Tom."

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. "No-" She mumbled.

"If you want to talk about your denial of feelings, I draw the line there. Please do it with Pollux."

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Cole."

He let out a mirthless laugh as he shook his head in disbelief. He stood up and exhaled. "Actually, let's not talk about that. I'd rather go back to the awkwardness than to listen to you talk endlessly about _him_."

Hermione scoffed. "I don't talk about him."

"Sure." He let the argument drop.

"No. You don't get to run away from this conversatio-" She began

"And you shouldn't even have this conversation with me to begin with, but with Tom." He cut her off, raising his voice. "I just needed to tell you how I felt. I knew where it would lead to, but I did it anyway."

"So why are we having this conversation, then ?"

"Because I thought that maybe, _maybe_ you could return my feelings Grace !" He finally said, as if he had been waiting weeks to let that out. "Obviously I was wrong," He bitterly added.

Hermione didn't know what to answer so she just stared at him. Cole was directly looking at her, his chest rapidly rising.

"You don't get to be angry," She finally said. "and if I recall correctly, this is not what happened at all." It was her turn to stand up and raise her voice. "You blurted out your feelings on me out of nowhere, telling me you wanted to invite me to the party. You just assumed my feelings, Tom !" She kept going. "You didn't even ask me to go to the party with you !" She almost yelled. "He asked me out three days before the party, you've had all the time in the world." Hermione took a step forward. "So don't you dare blame me for your lack of courage."

Cole was simply smiling. A sad smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"You think this is funny ?" Hermione felt the anger rising in her guts.

"Tom." He simply said.

"Again with Tom ?" She yelled.

"No Grace," Cole calmly told her. "You just called me Tom."

Hermione opened her mouth but no sound came out. Cole wavered for a second before leaving her alone in the kitchen. She couldn't comprehend how she could have messed up that bad. She was so mad at herself she could break everything around her.

She did.

OoOoOo

20.01.1944 :

Hermione was absently drawing. It seemed to happen quite a lot since she arrived in this timeline. She was getting quite bored actually. As usual, the charms class was not the most exciting for her, she already knew everything.

Luckily, in their sixth year, the number of students was odd. And as they were all trying to cast a wandless shield to counter their partner's spell, she had persuaded Professor Wink to let her work on something else. In the end, she had decided on writing Nicolas Flamel a letter. She had finished writing it a while back, that was why she was currently drawing on a spare piece of parchment.

She found herself watching Tom. She was mad at him. He had manipulated her so well that he had invaded her mind. What infuriated her, even more, was that she knew he was manipulating her from the beginning. She had heard his conversation with Dolohov all those months ago. She had known that all of the smiles, the gentle touches, the flirty banter were nothing more than a way to manipulate. She finally tore her gaze away as she felt anger in her system.

Her mind then wandered to Cole. They haven't talked since their altercation. She didn't know what to say to him. She had fucked up so bad she had no idea how to mend what she had broken. Every time she saw Pollux with him, she didn't join. She let them be.

Without even realising, her eyes were back on him. She let out a frustrated huff which brought Belone's attention to her. McNair mouthed "are you ok ?" and Hermione just smiled. She let her head fall in her hands.

She blamed that on the tiredness. Actually, she blamed everything on the tiredness recently. Even though she had planned the whole Christmas disaster, she felt overwhelmed just thinking about what happened. She had talked to a lot of people about it. One of them being Atticus Aldritch, Oswald's close friend. He had felt so bad, Hermione had almost pitied him. She quite enjoyed the fact no one really knew what happened. She liked that she had been in power, she had controlled everything without anyone knowing.

Even though she was getting tired of retelling the same lie every time, she was simply good at it. After all, she spent more than a year on Tom's side. This accounted for something.

 _Stop thinking about him._

She violently pushed a book from her desk.

* * *

20.01.1944 :

She violently pushed a book from her desk.

 _What is she doing ?_

She had not participated in today's class. Tom was almost disappointed. He was beginning to think about dueling against her. He knew he would when he would be sure he'd win.

Tom cast a wandless shield when Isodor attacked him and shortly retaliated. He noticed the way Avery had gotten better in charms in the last months. Tom was content about this.

Lately, everything worked out perfectly for Tom. From the downfall of Oswald to Dolohov Senior soon to be Muggle Prime Minister guard. He was feeling on top of the world. His eyes landed on each lad and knew, deep inside of him, they would do everything he would ask. He just needed to know if _she_ would.

Antonin's whine filled the room. Tom saw Abraxas hovering above him, apparently pleased with the charm he had just cast. Tom had also noticed the shift in Antonin's behaviour. The rage and jealousy he felt towards Grace had seemed to shrink since he latched out on her at Christmas. Even if Tom was not pleased by Dolohov's actions back then, he couldn't deny it had done some good for Antonin.

However, something was still off with him. He kept losing his duels, being unfocused. Antonin had even talked to him about this. A few days ago, he had grabbed Tom by the arm and frantically talked about feeling like he was losing his mind. Tom knew Antonin was exaggerating so he simply brushed this off and told the boy it was nothing, that he surely needed to sleep more.

Tom briefly wondered if it was his fault if he had asked too much of him. Well, the others seemed fine though.

Tom watched Antonin getting up only to fall back on the ground a few seconds later.

 _Something is definitely off._

* * *

22.01.1944 :

Hermione wanted to say something but they were all talking, all congratulating themselves for Dolohov Senior's new job. She had to say something.

Plus, the chair next to hers was empty, the one now belonging to Abraxas. Tom had let them know Malfoy would surely be late and what surprised Hermione the most was that he didn't seem to be mad about it.

"Is no one going to talk about the fact that Milton's not been there for the last three meetings ?" She finally said. Some of the lads looked at the empty chair at the end of the table. "Have we stopped including him in our plans ?" She kept asking but no one answered. "Is it because he is falling behind in a few classes ? Or because he has some new friends ? Because if it is the case, this is some shitty behaviour from you."

Everyone had noticed Milton changing. Hermione felt he was not as much invested in the lads' agenda as he was the year before. And even when he was there, he barely participated. Plus, he was getting more and more detention by the weeks. He was failing a majority of his classes and he had started hanging out with new people as if he was quitting.

 _Is it even possible to quit the lads ?_

She knew deep inside of her, it was not. They had too much knowledge of their plans, on what they had done. Tom would never allow that.

"I think he's in detention." Edmund finally answered.

"Again ? You-"

The door to the fifth-floor room loudly opened and Abraxas stumbled in. Everyone turned towards him.

"Something happened." Malfoy gravely said. "Something really bad happened."

"What are you talking about ?" Dolohov asked as Abraxas sat down next to her.

"I was talking to Lovegood," He was looking around the table "that's why I'm late." Malfoy was trying to get his breath under control, he surely ran here. "The _Daily Prophet_ is dropping a bomb tomorrow morning." Abraxas was staring at Lestrange.

"What are you talking about ?" Hermione asked. She was beginning to panic. Something was very wrong and she didn't know what.

"The Montagues are about to go down." Abraxas said, his eyes still on Lestrange. "Their daughter, Gemma, had been having affairs with older men. The story's out. And we're fucked because-"

"Because Edgard's father has been sleeping with her for at least a year." Hermione declared.

It felt as if she had been the one dropping the bomb. All the lads turned towards her and Tom moved to the front of his seat.

"How do you know that ?" He pressed her, clearly distressed.

"I heard a conversation last year during Slughorn's Christmas Party between Septimus Malfoy and Corvus Lestrange. They talked about Corvus sleeping with a minor. I've recently put two and two together when Cole told me one night Gemma liked older men." Hermione was speaking so fast because everything was rushing inside her head. She was not looking at any of the lads, her gaze was stuck on the wooden table. She stumbled a few times on her words. "That's how I understood that Gemma and Oswald were sleeping together and I knew she was not only having sex with him. Then, I saw the way Edgard was behaving around her. Especially at Cole's birthday. That's how I know." Hermione then looked at Edgard. "Am I right ?"

The silence that followed her explanation was heavy. She didn't know if it was because they were impressed by the way her mind worked or if they were all panicked at the idea of the _Daily Prophet_ announcing that to the world tomorrow.

"On the bright side, if the Montagues go down, Tuft loses almost half of her financing." She tried to reassure them.

Tom couldn't contain his laughter.

OoOoOo

25.01.1944 :

They used to go to Abe's every Thursday night, Cole, Pollux and her. She didn't anymore. She let them have their own fun. Their nights without her. This explained why she had chosen to go see Abe on a Wednesday night. Of course, she could have chosen to stay in, talk with the lads but she didn't want to.

When she had arrived at Abe's, he had asked her why she had come alone. Hermione hadn't had the guts to tell him the truth so simply said she needed time by herself. She had not drunk either, she didn't feel like it.

Hermione had just stepped out of the passageway when she heard someone clear their throat.

"So that's how you have been sneaking out of the castle." He told her. Hermione internally cursed herself for not having checked the map before getting in. She spun on her heels.

"Tom, fancy seeing you here." She sharply retorted.

Every Wednesday night was Tom's rounds. She knew it but forgot on this evening. He was slowly walking around the statue. He was inspecting every part of it and Hermione was staring, her arms crossed upon her chest. "So, the one-eyed witch." He said. "I reckon you just use a simple revealing charm."

Tom had asked her in the past how she got out with Pollux and Cole of the castle, she always refused to tell him. Moreover, at Cole's birthday party, she had purposely refused to go to Abe's with him because she knew Tom knowing about this passageway was giving him too much power.

Since the last meeting, three days before, Hermione had chosen to distance herself from him. She had her reasons.

Tom then walked back to her. "What should I do with you ?" Hermione could hear the smirk in his voice. "Out of bed after hours. Out of _ground_ after hours. This is quite serious, Grace. You could face expulsion." Tom stopped in front of her, a few feet away.

"Just give me a detention so we're done with it." She replied, fed up.

"So you can charm your way out of it with Slughorn ? I do not think so."

Without talking about it, they both began walking towards their common room. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched him. He was smug. Hermione asked herself why Tom had been acting this way recently, overly confident, content with himself, always in a good mood. It was odd. Before they took the last turn to the common room, Tom stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

"You are angry with me." He stated. "I want to know why."

"I would be surprised if you didn't." She shrugged out of his hold.

"Tell me, Grace."

Hermione huffed. "Fine ! Why did you dismiss me like that during the last meeting ? My plan would have worked if you had even listened to what I was saying. The story wouldn't be out."

Tom was just listening so she went on. "It feels like you don't care about Lestrange's reputation as long as Tuft's financing is gone."

"Come on Grace, it is not Lestrange's first scandal. He always falls back on his feet. After all, his seat at the Wizengamot is not something you can take away from him."

"So we just do nothing because you don't care ?" Hermione was disbelieving. "Have you even talked to Edgard about this ? About how he must feel about this getting out ?"

"If Edgard had something to say, he would have said it. Have you heard anything from him ?" Tom was looking right into her eyes well aware of the answer. "See ? He is fine with it."

"Well, I am not." Hermione scoffed. "Letting a man's reputation go to ashes because it can help you ?"

"Yes. Just like you did with Oswald."

Hermione took a step back. She opened her mouth to talk but quickly shut it.

"I see," Tom almost laughed, "when you do it, it is alright. But when I do it, it is wrong."

 _You're just like him, Hermione._

 _Something's wrong with you._

"Quite the double standard, isn't it ?" Tom let out a dark laugh. "You always act like you are above everyone like we are the bad guys in every situation. Well, guess what Hortense, you are one of us and you are one of the worse."

"I know my way from here." Hermione spat. She walked away from him and pushed the door to the common room open to find Pollux sitting in front of the chimney, a letter in hand.

"He's so infuriating." She complained as she approached the couch to sit next to her friend.

Pollux turned around and tried to hide his face, brushing the tears off his eyes. "What happened ?" He asked, trying to get his voice under control.

"Are you alright ?" Hermione's voice dropped two octaves and she gently put a hand on his lap.

"What did Tom do this time ?" The smile he had on his lips didn't reach his eyes.

"Pollux, you're clearly distressed. Tell me."

He handed her the letter he was reading. Hermione quickly realised the Wizengamot had just received the official inheritance of the Parkinson chair to Pollux. A letter Hermione knew he had been waiting for for quite some time now.

"Why do you look so sad then ? It's everything you've worked for. Shouldn't you be happy ?"

"I am." He shrugged. "I don't even know why I'm feeling that way. But I'm alright kiddo. More than alright."

They were both staring at the fire, not talking. Then, she heard the quiet sniffing coming from her friend. The soft crackling of the fire mixed with the gentle murmur of the water was one of the most comforting sounds she had ever heard.

In her own timeline, she had been quite afraid of this common room. She had imagined it to be dark and slightly frightening. She couldn't have been farther from the truth.

It was not as warm as the Gryffindor common room, but it just felt like home.

Suddenly Pollux rose and turned to face her. He looked genuinely upset.

"You should maybe go to sleep." She offered.

"I wouldn't be able to sleep."

"What do you do at home when you can't sleep ?"

Pollux let out a mirthless laugh and Hermione knew what it meant. He drank. Of course, he did.

"What did you do when you were little and you couldn't sleep ?" She asked.

"I-" He softly smiled, "I used to watch the stars."

Hermione stood by him and took a hold of his hand before pulling him out of the common room.

They made their way up to the banks of the Black Lake. The thick fog brought an eerie atmosphere. The water was so calm and dark that they could have thought it to be concrete if it was not for the moon's reflection on it. From afar, they could see the large tree they had hidden under, to shelter themselves from the rain at the beginning of the term.

They arrived in silence with the sound of the boots on the soft snow beneath their feet as the only melody. She knew not to talk, not when Pollux had this expression on his face. Hermione knew his mind was rushing and she also knew he would tell her when ready.

Pollux took out the letter once more out of his pocket and re-read it. Suddenly, he violently tore it in half. It startled Hermione as she was not anticipating this.

"Woh woh woh, what are you doing ? Stop !" Hermione tried to take the letter away from him but he kept ripping it. 'What has gotten into you ? What's wrong ? Talk to me, you know you can tell me everything."

"I don't want it !" Pollux shoved the papers in her chest. "Take it. I don't want it."

"You're so full of bullshit." Hermione chuckled. However, it died down when she saw the panic creeping up his face. She grabbed his shaky hands. "Look me in the eyes. Look at me." He complied.

"I can't do it." His voice trembling. "I am not worth it. I-I-I'm an alcoholic, Grace. I am ashamed of it but I can't change it. I'm a fucking hurricane destroying everything on its way. I'm wasted space. I'm a horrible person. No one cares about me"

"No." She cradles his face, feeling the wetness of the tears beneath her palms. "I care. I care. Me, I find you beautiful, since the first time I saw you."

"The universe would be better off without me."

Her heart stopped. She had heard him say it once, but he was drunk. He had talked about suicide, but he was drunk. On this snowy night, he was not. The inside of his mind was as dark as the night. She felt scared. Hermione couldn't press more love into this boy at this moment.

"What will I do without you ? What will the universe do without you ?This will never work. It's impossible." Pollux began audibly sobbing. "Come on you shouldn't cry ! Don't cry because it will pass I promise, it will pass. Because we're among those who recover among those who resist." Pollux dropped to his knees and buried his head in his hands, Hermione crouched in front of him

"I just need to get this fog out of my head." He cried. "This fucking blizzard."

Hermione stopped to look at him then got the idea. She kept nodding to herself then jumped on her feet and faced the Black Lake.

"Do you hear us Blizzard ? Do you hear us ?" Hermione screamed. Pollux's head snapped up and looked at her.

"What are you doing ?" He asked, making sure no one was around. Hermione looked at him and smiled before continuing. "Rise up Pollux." He did and with shaky knees, he went by her side. "Do you hear us Blizzard ? Do you hear us ?" Hermione repeated. "If you're hearing us, go fuck yourself."

"Yeah, go fuck yourself !" Pollux yelled.

"Did you think you were going to have us huh? Did you think we haven't seen enough ? _Surprise connard_ !" Hermione opened her arms in a T formation and beamed when she heard the soft sound of Pollux's laugh.

Pollux had his gaze stuck on the Black Lake, his cheeks damp from the tears that hadn't stopped rolling.

"Do you hear us Shame? Do you hear us ?" He screamed "If you're hearing us watch out when you're returning home alone at night, we may decide to remake your jaw with sharp objects, or wash your head with lead, what do you think ?"

"Do you hear us Sadness ? Do you hear us ?" Hermione shouted, "If you're hearing us it's because you'll be packing your bags soon, take a left one first, second one right, then left again and go fuck yourself. _Félicitation, bravo_!"

It felt good. For the both of them. It felt good to scream at the top of their lungs, not caring about anything. Just letting everything out. They screamed and screamed until their throat became sore. Then, they stopped. Only the sound of their raging breath could be heard. Hermione slowly looked at Pollux and saw him staring at the moon's reflection on the water.

"Do you hear me Death? Do you hear me ?" Pollux said in such a low voice, if Hermione hadn't been this close to him she wouldn't have heard. "If you're hearing me know that you don't frighten me anymore, you can take anything you want, I go on, all the same, you can't stop me."

Pollux then took a large inhale and whispered. "Go fuck yourself Universe."

"Go fuck yourself Universe." She repeated.

They hadn't talked on the way back. They had stayed watching the snow slowly falling down. He had taken her hand as they had walked back to the common room. Hermione was about to say the password when she heard Pollux's low voice.

"What if," Pollux's voice was strained, "what if I realise in a couple of years none of that was worth it."

She just clenched her hand around his, silently letting him know that if it were the case, she would always be there.

* * *

31.01.1944 :

Tom had just gotten out of the library. He had spent about two hours looking for a book in the restricted section only to realise it was not there. He was about to go down the Great Hall for lunch when a small boy, surely a first-year, stopped him.

"You're a prefect !" The boy acknowledged the obvious.

"What is going on ?"

"Something happened !" The boy began running towards the moving staircase.

As the prefect he was, Tom hurried to follow him. Dozens of students were gathered. Tom tried to find out what could have happened.

"Make way !" He ordered them.

As Tom almost arrived at where everyone was, one of the lads, Edmund, stopped him.

"He lost his fucking mind !" Rosier warned Tom. Tom moved one last student out of his way before noticing Dolohov bleeding on the floor. He had his left leg entirely broken and an amount of crimson red pouring out of his skull.

"What the fuck happened ?" Tom harshly asked Edmund.

"I don't know ! He fucking jumped !"

On the other side of the corridor, Cole Woodcroft, followed by Slughorn and Miss Asphodela were running towards them.

 _What the fuck is going on ?_

"Move !" Cole commanded. The matron crouched next to Dolohov to check his vitals before hurrying to get him to the infirmary.

Tom shoved Edmund into the nearest classroom. "You need to tell me what happened."

* * *

31.01.1944 :

Hermione had sneaked out of the common room and had walked down the deserted hallways. She heard small voices so she stopped in her tracks.

"It's been weeks." Miss Asphodela said in a hushed voice. "Just last week, he had come to see me, he had almost scratched the skin off of his arms. He wasn't even aware of the blood. He just kept scratching."

"Dragon Pox ?" Dippet asked. "It starts like this."

"No," the matron kept going, "he almost froze himself to death by going to the Black Lake two weeks ago. And when I asked him why he did that, he couldn't even tell me. Don't tell me you haven't noticed something wrong with this boy lately."

Hermione took one step forward in order to see them without being seen. They were all gathered in a circle in front of the infirmary door.

"We have noticed." Slughorn agreed. "I have talked with many of his professors about his behaviour. I even noticed it myself. He misplaced things, he forgot everything he had said or what had been told to him. He got angry for no reason in class."

"I have heard him say someone was messing with his head." Dumbledore chipped in.

"Well, I have heard him say he was losing his mind." Slughorn added.

Headmaster Dippet cleared his throat, now aware of the entire situation. "What should we do Leonara ? What do you reckon ?"

"He's stable for now, we should let him sleep." She explained. "But Armando, I will have no other choice than to send him to St Mungo's tomorrow. He can't keep hurting himself."

They kept talking for no more than ten minutes before they went their separate ways. Hermione waited for the Headmaster and the two professors to be gone to discreetly follow the matron inside the infirmary. The room was almost pitch black. The only source of light, aside from the moonlight, was the candle inside Miss Asphodela's office.

Hermione looked around her and then noticed the limp body of Dolohov on the far right. Without any noise, she approached him and pulled the curtains around them. With a simple wick of her wand, she cast a _muffliato_.

"No hard feelings, _Antonin_ " Hermione whispered and Antonin's eyes snapped open. He didn't get the time to say anything or move that Hermione had immobilized him.

"Poor Antonin," she chuckled, "losing his mind." Hermione bent over him and put her hand in his hair and slowly carded her fingers through it. She could see the panic in his eyes, the way they flickered all around the room, the way they pleaded for her to stop. "Everyone's worried you know." She kept murmuring. Hermione knew he wanted to scream. "Shhh," she kept carding her fingers, and brought her wand to his field of view. At the sight, his eyes filled with tears, she had never seen him this afraid. She suddenly felt so powerful, she could do whatever she wanted to him. "Everyone has been thinking you've been losing your mind for the last few weeks. Maybe it's time you actually lose it."

Hermione leaned further towards him to bring her lips next to his left ear. "Guess who's mad now ?" She began whispering the dark curse she had been planning on using all along. One that would fill his head with terrifying thoughts. One that would make him constantly afraid. One that would break him.

She enjoyed it.

 _What the fuck are you doing, Hermione ?_

It had been a long time she had not heard this little voice in her head. The voice of reason. Hermione jumped out of bed and fell on her arse on the floor. It was as if she had snapped out of a trance she had been in for too long. She looked right at Dolohov and saw the tears gathering in his collarbone and Hermione realised.

 _What are you doing ?_

She got up to her feet, feeling her legs ready to give up from the realisation of what she would have done. She shot one last glance at Dolohov before running away. Hermione was afraid at this moment, afraid of what she had been about to do. She had been willing to go that far and it scared her. She ran and ran until she reached the fresh air. She let the cold breeze of the night caress her face and she stood on the bleachers.

* * *

31.01.1944 :

"Grace ?"

Her eyes widely opened and she looked at Tom, casually leaning against the guardrail, a cigarette in his mouth. She put her hands on her head and turned away from him.

"Leave me alone." She pleaded, her voice breaking on the last word.

"Has something happened to you ?" Seeing her that way was not something Tom was accustomed to. He suddenly felt worried.

He frowned and pushed himself from the guardrail to step closer but she stumbled back

"Get away from me !" But he didn't, he kept walking towards her. "Get away from me ! Get away from me !" She ended up frantically yelling at him.

At the desperate sound, Tom put both his hands in the air as a sign of peace. He didn't understand what was going on. Was she afraid of him ? He didn't like the idea.

"It's all your fault." She accused him.

"What have I done ?"

"Everything !" She screamed. "If you hadn't messed up with my head, I wouldn't have done any of that."

Tom realised something bad must have happened. He knew the length she could go to if necessary and at this moment, he was almost scared. "What have you done ?"

Grace was staring at her hands as if they were bloodied. Tom understood she wasn't afraid of him, but of herself.

"It went too far. It wasn't supposed to happen that way," she began crying and met his gaze, "I was just messing with him. I just couldn't stop myself."

"What did you do ?" Tom had taken a step closer.

"I had to do something. I couldn't just let him walk away. Not after what he has done to me." She explained.

Tom finally understood who she was talking about. "You were the one messing with Antonin's head." He stated. Tom was internally smiling. He had been quite confused at first when she hadn't retaliated after Dolohov's mess up at the Christmas party. Even _he_ had done something about it. But knowing now that she had messed with him filled Tom with pride. "It was clever." She had chosen one thing no one would suspect. She had played so well with Antonin's mind that no one even thought it could come from someone else. It was so gradual everyone had actually thought Antonin had been slowly losing his mind.

Grace huffed in surprise.

"Clever ? Is that all you have to say ?" She shouted. "It wasn't clever. It was despiteful. Misplacing things, trashing his work, using _confundus_ on him, obliviating him about little things so he would feel like losing his mind. This was just petty. But slipping him hallucinogenic potions so he would scratch himself until he bled, sowing the idea of jumping into the frozen Black Lake at night, and straining his mind so much he would jump off the second floor was going too far." Grace had taken three large strides towards him. "But I didn't even stop there. Do you know where I was a few minutes before ?" She rhetorically asked him. "I was in the infirmary ready to cast the somnum exterreri curse. That's fucked up, Tom."

How could she not realise everything she did was beautiful ?

"I'm fucked up." She added walking towards the guardrail.

"No, you are not." Tom was only a few feet away from her. Grace looked at him with big teary eyes.

"What is happening to me ?"

"You just got a glimpse of what power feels like." Tom delicately put his hand on her left cheek and saw the way her eyes closed at the touch, leaning in it. Her skin was soft under his palm, he brushed away a few stray tears and put back a strand of her hair behind her ear before continuing. "You got drunk on power and got scared because you enjoyed it. But Grace, there is no shame in liking it."

She had opened her eyes and was looking at him. Tom could see the small part of innocence she still had underneath all the layers of immorality.

He needed her as much as she needed him. He was the one to rile her up, to let her embrace her true self. He was the gasoline starting the fire. She was the blazing heat, the smoldering fire. He only wanted to light the match to taste the heat.

She was too much. She had always been too much. She was burning him. He wanted to watch the flames get higher.

 _Fuck it, watch me burn._

He leaned and brushed his lips against hers.

* * *

31.01.1944 :

They kissed. It wasn't like the one you see in the movies, it didn't give her butterflies and the world didn't light up. Instead, it broke her. Leaving a cut so deep she thought she wouldn't make it out alive.

"Why are you doing this to me?" She whispered against his lips.

"Because I couldn't resist this time." He cupped her face and kissed her once again.

Their first kiss had only lasted a second, the small brush of lips, almost candid. Almost as if he was just tasting her. But now that he had, he wanted more.

She felt the cold guardrail pushing against her back, but she couldn't care less. Tom had put everything he had in this kiss and Hermione almost moaned in his mouth. Instinctively, she pulled him closer by his lapel, to feel the heat emanating from his skin. His hands, cupping her jaw, slowly moved towards her hair to tangle his fingers in it. He slightly pulled her hair back to dive more into the kiss. Her hands found themselves on his back, pressing their bodies closer. She needed to touch him more. She felt the tingles down her spine as his hands gently made their way to her hips. Hermione finally reached his hair and pushed her fingers through it. Tom slightly bit her lower lip and this time she moaned. She felt the small smile this brought him.

Suddenly she realised what she was doing. All reason had left her mind. She violently pushed him away. Tom didn't seem to fully understand, he was about to dive right back in but she stopped him.

"You don't need to go that far !" She told him off.

"What ?" Tom frowned.

"Oh come on," she let out a bitter laugh, "I know why you're doing all of this." Tom took a step towards her. "I know what this is all about." Hermione said. "I've heard you talking to Dolohov at Pollux's birthday. I know this is only to manipulate me. The smiles, the hand on my lower back, the gallantry, the flirty banter, the jealousy with Cole. Everything ! But I'm already doing whatever you want ! You can stop pretending !"

Tom was looking at her in a way he had never before. He looked so different at this moment. His hair, usually perfectly styled, was disheveled from her hands. His shirt, usually pristine, was wrinkled. His face, usually stern cold, was flushed. His lips, usually turned into a smirk, were slightly plumbed from her own.

"No," he said, "you are wrong. Well, maybe at first, but I was only lying to myself. Nothing that has just happened was pretending."

Hermione was only shaking her head no.

"Yes, Grace," Tom was getting closer and closer, "I am not pretending, just like you are not."

"It-it's only a game." Hermione whispered. "It's always a game with you." She closed her eyes and let the tears fall down.

"No, it is not. You need to realise it. Just like I did." He took a step closer. "You need to embrace it." He took another one. "Just like I did."

He put out his hand for her to take. She hesitated.

OoOoOo

01.02.1944 :

"I promise, Abe,' Pollux laughed, hugging Abe, "Cole will come with us next time."

Parkinson knocked twice on the wooden bar and left a few galleons before leaving. Hermione flashed a smile at the bartender and followed Pollux outside. Once the door closed behind her, Pollux talked. "Can you tell me now why Cole will surely not come next time ?"

"It's nothing." She shrugged and started walking through the deserted streets of Hogsmeade, Pollux hot on her heels.

"No, no, no, no, kiddo." He chuckled, "he won't talk to me about it, you won't talk to me about it. I'm losing it. What the fuck happened between you two ?"

Hermione stopped and turned to look at him. He was lightly jogging to join her. "I'm tired, Pollux. Let's just go back."

"Yes, you're tired. Don't you think I can't see you're tired ? You look like you've cried yourself to sleep last night."

"No I-"

"Don't lie to me !" Pollux rose his voice in frustration which made Hermione flinch back. Time stilled for a second. The snow, that was falling down the dark sky, stopped and Hermione felt as if they were alone. Pollux, in front of her, soft underneath the light of an old street lamp.

"No, no I'm sorry." His voice had come back to its usual softness. "It's just that it's frustrating. I know you're not okay, I can see it. You're always the one helping me, let me help you for once."

Hermione's gaze dropped to the floor and she braced herself not to cry. Pollux could see the way her shoulders were slightly shaking. In half a second he had gently grabbed her right wrist and dropped a small kiss in the middle of it. This simple act of tenderness was her breaking point. If Pollux had not been there she would have crumbled onto the floor, but he was there, and he held her.

"I don't know what I'm doing. I thought I was in control but I am not." She looked at him and saw nothing but compassion in his brown eyes. "Cole told me how he felt."

Pollux slowly nodded. "But there's Tom." He stated.

"But I never wanted Tom to be there." She whined in a quiet voice, letting her head fall down once more but Pollux kindly took her by the chin for her to look into his eyes.

"Things like that are never planned." Pollux was so genuine in his words. "That's what makes them beautiful."

"I can't, Pollux." She cried.

"Cole will be fine with it. He just needs a little time maybe. But he's still your friend."

"No, no, Pollux. It has nothing to do with Cole," She let out a shuddering breath, "I just can't. You don't understand, he kissed me."

Pollux chuckled and wiped the tears away from her face. "So what ? It was inevitable."

"But he will-" but she stopped. "I will-" she stopped again. "I can't-" she was frustrated. "I just can't let myself be with him." She finally blurted out. "You couldn't understand."

"So help me understand."

Hermione gulped and stared at him. He was patient, understanding, soft. She felt so much love for him.

"I can't be with him, Pollux, because I know what he will become." She simply said. "He's going to be the cause of so much pain, so much destruction. He's going to destroy me and everyone I love"

"It's not because he appears cold sometimes that automatically he's going to turn bad, Grace."

"No Pollux, you don't understand."

"Then tell me !"

"Because he did !" She yelled, "he already did, fifty years from now !"

She only needed one person to tell her what she was doing was wrong. She needed someone else to tell her she couldn't be with him. Because she hadn't succeeded by herself.

She needed Pollux to be this person.

Confusion was printed all over his face. "Pardon ?"

"I'm not from here Pollux," she cried, "I lied about everything. My name isn't even Grace." Pollux stumbled back.

Hermione needed to get closer to him so she took a step forward but Pollux took one backward. "Wait ? What ?" He asked. "What are you talking about ? You're not making any sense."

"Because it simply doesn't make sense. I have no idea what's going on. I'm so alone Pollux, I'm constantly afraid of making a wrong move that could change everything."

"I don't understand what you are trying to tell me."

Hermione inhaled and slowly let the air out of her lungs. "My name is Hermione Granger. I was born in 1979. And I have no idea how I got here."

"If you think this is funny, Grace, it's not." Pollux gulped.

"I'm not Grace !"

"You're kind of scaring me right now."

"Don't you think I am scared ?" She shouted, tears spilling from her eyes.

Pollux knew at this moment she was serious.

"How is this even possible ?" He murmured.

"I don't know. One minute I was in the middle of a battle at Hogwarts an-"

"What ?" Pollux began to panic a little. "When ? A battle ?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you Pollux." She walked towards him. "Tom is bad. Way more than you could ever imagine. "

"What will he do ?"

"He will try to get rid of people like me." Hermione said through the tears.

"People like you ?"

"I am everything you despise, Pollux." She said in a broken voice as she rolled up her left sleeve to show him her scar.

He simply looked at her scar and finally saw what it was really meant to say. Out of a sudden, Pollux's eyes climbed back to hers and she knew he understood.

A silence settled and it helped her sink in what she had just done. She began to panic. Pollux was never meant to know. She didn't want him to know.

 _What did you do, Hermione ?_

She saw that Pollux was about to say something and she couldn't let him. She didn't want to know what he was thinking. She was afraid of what he would say. She couldn't live with Pollux hating her. She couldn't afford to lose Pollux.

So she rapidly took out her wand. He saw it, he panicked. He knew she was about to use it on him. He took a step forward and simply said her name. Her real name. "Hermione."

She'd rather live with the certainty of his unconditional love through the lies she made up than to live with the knowledge of his potential rejection.

So she did it.

So rapidly she didn't even think about it twice. So rapidly she didn't even see the light coming out of her wand. So rapidly she didn't have the time to regret it.

 _Obliviate_

* * *

 **Authors' note : So it happened. It finally happened. It only took +150k words but it happened.**

 **We've realised that we had put a lot of hopes on Colemione in the last chp only to shatter the ship in this one (eheh) - but the ff isn't over, right ?**

 **We've broken our own record : we wrote this chapter in 14 hours (almost straight). Actually, we're secluded in the mountains with not a lot to do but right. We've also done the entire layout fo the next three chapter and already written half of chapter 21. We're on fire.**

 **We hope you enjoyed it. Thank you so much for your kind words and all of your reviews. You're all so amazing, wlysm. Here's our Tumblr : agarariddle-andhernachos**

 **Lots of love,**

 **-DDM's Managers**

 **PS : We've been asked about the cast we picture, we've just reblogged on our Tumblr the yearbook with all the fancast.**


	21. KILL OF THE NIGHT

**Dying is a Delicate Moment**

 **A fanfic by Agara**

"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."

And he kills her

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE : KILL OF THE NIGHT**

* * *

 _Song : Kill of the Night by Gin Wingmore_

14.02.1944 :

 **I hope your day is as nice as your butt,** it read, followed by a small drawing Hermione imagined to be her own bottoms. She laughed, really laughed. Not far, further down the Slytherin table, Pollux was watching her, waiting for a reaction. As soon as he heard the laugh escape her lips, his face shifted. His eyes glowed and a proud grin bloomed on his face. When their gaze met, he blew her a kiss, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh harder. She kept looking at him, the laughter slowly fading away.

Sometimes, it just hurt to look at him. She couldn't help but wonder what could have happened if she hadn't done _that_. What if, instead of playfully looking at her, Pollux was to not even look at her ? What if, instead of trying to make her laugh, Pollux was the one to make her cry ? But also, what if Pollux had understood and held her as she would have spilled everything ? What if Pollux had been the one to make all of this weight lighter on her shoulders ?

Yes, sometimes it hurt just to look at him, and at this moment it did.

"Should I be jealous ?"

Hermione snapped out of her thoughts and turned her head. Tom was drinking his tea, obviously hiding a smirk. She was about to snark back when the lads finally joined them and sat down.

"What were you talking about ?" Edgard asked as he sat next to Tom.

"Nothing." Hermione said as she folded Pollux' letter. At the sight, Isodor tried to steal it but the witch was quick enough to put it in her pocket before Avery could reach it. She went back to eating her eggs and didn't even notice Tom pouring her another glass of pumpkin juice.

"Has anyone received a letter from a secret admirer ?" She then asked the lads. Her eyes first landed on Isodor shoveling food down his throat, then on Thorus, just sitting next to him, a faint blush on his cheeks. Hermione tried not to smile.

"No, but I've sent four." Edmund said. "One in each house."

"Classy, Rosier." Tom snorted. The boy winked at the prefect then went back to eating his breakfast.

There had been a good atmosphere lately. Everything they had planned was perfectly working. Even Dolohov's return from St Mungo's hadn't disturbed the peace they were all feeling.

Hermione felt something moving in her pocket, she lowered her gaze and saw Abraxas' hand grabbing the letter Pollux had sent her. Hermione didn't get the time to snatch it back that Abraxas had already opened it and showed the lads. They all laughed.

"Did he really send you that ?" Abraxas chuckled.

"Of course I did." Pollux was standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders. He then threw the letter she had sent him next to Malfoy's plate. "She also sent me one." The blond took it and read it out loud : **you suck less than most people**.

"Coming from Grace, this is a lot." Egdard snickered.

Pollux gently settled next to her on the bench, making one of the lads scooch over. "Well, I guess I'm not spending Valentine's night alone." Parkinson told her while wiggling his eyebrows.

"I thought you were spending it with Cole at Abe's." Hermione said.

"Woodcroft appears to have a busy schedule tonight." Tom snickered, not even tearing his gaze away from the newspaper he was reading. Hermione was about to ask him how he knew that but then caught sight of the HeadBoy his tongue down a girl's throat.

"Good for him." She said. Hermione hadn't meant to sound resentful, but from the frown between Tom's eyebrows, she realised she had.

"So while Cole does _that_ ," Pollux pointed to the girl, 'I'm going to do…" he looked around the room until his eyes landed on a tall ravenclaw, " _that_ ".

Hermione slapped his hand.

OoOoOo

14.02.1944 :

Hermione found herself sitting with Belone, Isodor, and Thorus in the library. Abraxas, Edgard Tom, and Edmund only a few feet away. They were all sharing the same table. Most of the sixth-years taking DADA were currently studying. Atticus Aldritch had given them a complicated assignment, three rolls of parchment on wordless spells.

Hermione was almost done with the first roll when she heard someone getting up. She didn't pay attention to who it was. However, she smelt Belone's perfume as the girl leaned towards her.

"I really need to know what is happening between you and Riddle, Grace." She said. Hermione rolled her eyes and understood Tom must have been the one who had just left.

"Once again Belone, nothing's happening." She sighed as she started writing the second roll.

"Yeah sure." Isodor snorted.

"Shut up Avery."

On the other side of the table, Abraxas loudly dropped his quill for the three of them to look at him. He shushed them. "No one cares about that."

"I do." Edgard chipped in, peeking out behind Abraxas. "Please resume the conversation." Belone laughed at that.

"I'm going to say it one last time," Hermione was slowly becoming exasperated by her friends' incessant questions, "nothing's happening between Tom and I."

"Someone saw the two of you." McNair said.

"Yeah, sure. This someone being Rosalie Whisterlock, also known for hating Olive Hornby who has a huge crush on Tom. Of course, she had said that."

"Well that doesn't me-" Edgard started but Hermione abruptly stood and left, not wanting to be bothered anymore.

She briefly wandered through the bookshelves. This side of the library was darker than the rest of the room, there only was a small window, meters off the ground, that barely lit the way. She let her fingers linger on the leather book covers, many with a thin layer of dust. The sound of her heels on the stoned floor added to the eerie atmosphere surrounding her.

She felt his presence before she could even see him. She briefly hesitated but finally slowly turned her head to the side to witness him already staring, leaning against one of the bookshelves, a book under his left armpit and legs crossed at the ankles. He was not wearing his uniform vest anymore, only the white shirt with his tie slightly undone around his neck. They looked at each other, for only a moment. They didn't talk, they didn't move.

Hermione finally tore her gaze away and went back to skimming through the books and Tom left.

OoOoOo

14.02.1944 :

Hermione just got out of her last lesson of the day, transfiguration, when she bumped into Pollux.

"Hermione !" He smiled down at her. He had used the exact same tone that night. She froze.

"What ?" She was taken aback. "What did you say ?"

"Your name. I said Grace." Pollux frowned then laughed it out. "Are you alright ?"

"Yes, yes, I thought I heard something else."

Yes, it hurt just thinking about it, about that night, about his face.

Without asking for her permission, Pollux took her bag and slouched it on his right shoulder. They began walking towards the common room. A few meters ahead, Hermione recognized Cole's hair.

"You need to talk to him." Pollux said.

"We fought a month ago. I have tried since then. He's been avoiding me, he's been glaring at me. What else do you want me to do ?" Hermione snapped. "Plus, it's not like he's in distress. He seemed quite fine this morning kissing this girl."

Pollux simply rolled his eyes and they both entered the common room. Hermione took back her bag and fled to her dorm to put some cold water on her face. She quickly looked at the time, she had ten minutes before she met with the lads. When she walked back down into the common room, Edmund took her by the arm. "Ready ?" He asked her, she nodded and they both made their way towards their room on the fifth floor.

Most of the lads were already in the room. As it was still winter, passing five pm, it was already dark outside. One of them must have cast a spell because there was a fiery fire in the chimney. It brought both warmth and light to the room. When the last one, Milton, arrived, they all sat around the table and it began.

They started with Dolohov concisely briefing everyone with the new information he had got from his father. Milton, at the far end of the table, wasn't even paying attention to what was being said. He was writing on some blank parchment. What called out to Hermione was the fact none of the lads seemed to care about it.

Then, they talked about Lestrange Senior, how he was handling the situation at the Wizengamot. It seemed that he had not been the one taking the largest blow, but still. Tuft had entirely cut ties with the Montagues and in doing so found herself short financially.

"Another sex scandal and Grace wasn't even involved." Dolohov snickered. The other lads shared an embarrassed laugh. Antonin, apparently pleased with his little joke added "no hard feelings, right ?"

Hermione smirked and lounged back on her chair. "No hard feelings, _Antonin_."

She had only used his first name once, back in the infirmary when he was defenselessly lying on the bed.

He had been under so much medication at the time, he had thought the scene in the infirmary to be a hallucination or even a nightmare. He hadn't talked to anyone about it. But hearing her say his name in the exact same way she had that night made him shudder. Hermione watched, slightly amused, as Antonin slowly understood. It began with a small frown, between his eyebrows, at the use of his first name. It then slowly turned into fear and panic as his eyes widened. He looked at her and visibly gulped. Hermione was waiting for him to either yell or stay entirely frozen. Dolohov opted for both. He gaped for a good twenty seconds before his dumbfoundedness turned into pure anger. He abruptly stood up, his chair falling behind in a loud thud.

"It was you !" He took out his wand and Hermione just cocked an eyebrow, clearly not impressed by him. "You've messed with my head, you cunt !"

"Who else would it be ?" She smirked. If she were only slightly amused a few moments before, Hermione was entirely delighted by Dolohov's reaction.

"Sit down Dolohov." Tom growled from his chair at the end of the table.

"She almost killed me !" He kept yelling.

"Well, you are not dead, are you ?" Tom rolled his eyes. The other lads were all gobsmacked.

Hermione snickered at Tom's comment. The latter turned his head towards her and glared. "Don't even start." Riddle put his hands flat on the table. "Your childish quarrels are seriously getting on my nerves, you have both screwed with the other. You are even."

Dolohov looked at Tom, he had been waiting for the prefect to take his side but found himself astounded by his words. He slowly lowered his wand, picked up his chair, and sat back down in complete silence.

The meeting went on without any further altercation between the two. Hermione sometimes felt Dolohov's glare directed right at her. To infuriate him even more, every time she knew he was looking at her, she made sure to wryly smile.

About an hour and half after they had started, the meeting ended. Hermione exhaled and went to stand up but Tom put his hand on hers to make her stay. She frowned but sat back down and watched Tom getting up to briefly talk with Abraxas.

After he had closed the door behind Malfoy, he casually leaned against it and looked at her. He had his usual smirk on.

"I will need your help tonight." He said.

Hermione looked at him for three seconds before slowly getting up and taking a step closer. "And I'll provide." She nodded. Hermione was expecting him to tell her a bit more about why he needed her help, but he didn't. He only kept staring at her.

"Aren't you going to tell me what the plan is ?" She asked him.

"Not yet." His eyes were filled with malice, something Hermione knew could be dangerous.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is that it ?" Tom slowly chuckled and moved away from the door. She put her hand on the handle when he spoke again. "Meet me in the common room in an hour." Hermione nodded and went to leave once more. "And do me a favour, wear something fancy." He added. She wanted to ask why but knew he wouldn't tell her anyway. She opened the door and took one step before he added something else. "I meant what I said with Dolohov." Hermione turned around and looked at him. "You are even. Stop messing with him."

She didn't feel the need to say anything else so she just walked away.

OoOoOo

14.02.1944 :

She had just finished applying a dark red lipstick. She took one last look at herself in the mirror. She had put her hair in a half ponytail, softly curling at the bottom. She was wearing a relatively short dress showing off her legs, in a peacock blue colour with golden ornaments on it. Her heels in matching gold.

When she walked back into her dorm, she saw Galatis and Belone sitting on the latter's bed. The Carrow girl politely smiled whereas Belone snorted. "Right. Nothing's happening."

Hermione only took her purse and put on a long black cloak before descending the stairs towards the common room. She checked her bag for her wand when she collided with someone. She felt two hands on her shoulders and rose her head to look at who she had crashed into. Cole was already looking at her. The expression he bore reminded Hermione of the Christmas Party when he had first seen her. He was all dressed up and she recalled he had a date tonight. After a few seconds of latency, he pulled his hands off of her and took a step back, obviously flustered

"Sorry." He said.

"No, I am. I wasn't looking where I was going." She laughed embarrassed.

Cole was about to leave when Hermione decided to try one last time. "Cole," she called out to him, "I don't want us to be this way. I miss you."

His eyes softened at the last words and Hermione felt hope bloom in her chest.

"Doesn't she look beautiful, Woodcroft ?" Tom appeared behind the HeadBoy. Hermione saw Cole tensing at the voice. "Yes, she always does." Cole exhaled. He looked at her one last time, with a sad smile. "Excuse-me." He said before reaching for the stairs that led to his dorm.

Hermione followed with her eyes Cole leaving before she slightly shoving Tom. She felt the soft fabric of his dark suit underneath her fingertips and the soft silk of his burgundy tie.

"Why did you fucking do that ?" Hermione snapped. Tom didn't seem to mind that she was upset with him. On the contrary, he seemed to like it. He stepped closer and went to put a strand of her hair behind her left ear but she slapped his hand away. His smirk only grew larger.

"Well, I was not lying. You _do_ look beautiful."

He was cheekily looking at her. He perfectly knew he had just said one of the only things that would leave her speechless. She held his gaze, trying to make sure he wouldn't see how flustered she actually was.

"I'm not dressed up like that for nothing, Riddle. Show me the way."

He put his hand on her lower back and led her out of the common room. He still hadn't told her where they were going. They were simply walking down the corridors until Hermione finally understood what was happening. They were reaching the one-eyed witch.

She knew he would use the passageway sooner or later. It made her mad just to think about how she had messed up that night. He had taken his hand off her back and approached the statue. He quickly glanced above his shoulder to make sure she was watching as he cast a _dissendium_. He showed the way with his hand and she only scoffed. He obviously had sneaked out before tonight.

They didn't talk in the tunnel. She opened the door to Honeydukes and tightened her cape as she felt the cold hitting her. She didn't want to admit it but her heart was racing from excitement. Hermione still didn't know what they were about to do and even though she wouldn't ever confess it out loud, she liked not knowing. Tom joined her outside a few seconds later and took a white thimble out of his inside pocket. "I believe you are accustomed to traveling by portkey." He said.

Hermione temporarily pondered if he had said that because she had supposedly arrived at Hogwarts two years ago by it. She frowned as she looked at the small object.

"Where are we going ?" She asked.

"I do not want to ruin the surprise." He smirked. "Ready ?" He put the thimble just before her eyes and waited for her to take it.

 _What kind of plan does he have that requires you to use a portkey ?_

She took a step forward and touched it. She felt something pulling her by her navel. Everything was spiraling around her, spinning full force. It lasted about twenty seconds before her feet hit the ground. In front of her, she saw Tom slightly stumbling forward, obviously not at ease with portkey transportation. Tom secured his wand in his holster and shot her a glance. Hermione was well aware they wouldn't be able to use any magic tonight. Tom, as he was still underage, had the trace and Hermione couldn't risk using it in front of Tom.

Hermione finally looked around her and understood where they had just arrived. They were both standing in front of Gringotts which was covered with a small layer of snow. As she took her cape off, she marveled at the sight. Everything looked so good, from the small cobblestone streets illuminated by thousands of candles to the tens of restaurants where couples were disgustingly goggling at each other. Her eyes then landed on each shop in the street, all bearing the same banner : Yaxley Ltd. When her eyes went back to Tom, she saw the appreciated smile he had on his lips as he seized her up. She quickly looked down at her outfit then shot him a wryly smile. "Is it fancy enough for you ?" She asked, cocking her left eyebrow. He only nodded.

Tom put his arm around hers and they walked down the street. The atmosphere was festive, dozens of couples were strolling next to them. They fitted.

"I think now is time for you to tell me what we are doing here." She told him.

"I need a book." It made Hermione laugh but when she looked at him, she understood he was more than serious.

"You're kidding me, right ?" She said as she stopped in her tracks. "If you wanted to buy a book, why have you brought us all the way here ?"

He was about to answer when all of a sudden, his face shifted. He put on the mask. The one she knew he slipped into when he was about to talk with someone he could use. The one he hadn't put on with her for a while now.

"Riddle !" She heard coming from behind. Hermione turned around and saw someone she never thought she would see again.

"Zabini !" Tom smiled. The tall dark boy, arm in arm with a gorgeous blond, approached them. What shocked Hermione the most was that Pax kissed both of her cheeks, as they do in France, before warmly shaking Tom's hand.

"What are you doing here ?" Pax smiled. "Aren't you supposed to be at Hogwarts ?" Hermione's heart rapidly sped up. "Actually, don't tell me." He laughed. He seemed to be doing so well. He was genuinely happy, living a privileged life.

Hermione felt more than uncomfortable. Pax had been her first casualty. One she never really forgave herself because, in the end, nothing had worked. What reassured her though, was that he seemed to be more than fine.

"Having fun, Zabini ?" Tom asked as he lit a cigarette with a lighter and handed Zanbini his pack for him to take one. He did.

"What a funny way to lit up a fag." Pax laughed as he used his wand to light it. Hermione saw Tom tense at the comment. Pax, without even knowing, had brought up Tom's heritage. One, Hermione knew he despised. Hermione put her hand on Tom's forearm and gently pressed. Tom understood the message and laughed it out.

Pax told them about what he had done since he had been expelled. He traveled quite a lot and even lived for six months in Paris. He talked about what the french capital was like, how the muggles were struggling with the German occupation. He even explained the barbary he witnessed, always in a light way. Hermione didn't fully understand how Pax could be so airy about such a dark subject. She had never spent much time with Zabini and she just remembered why. She felt something off with him, it had been one of the reasons she had chosen him during the felix felicis accident.

Tom and Pax kept talking and Hermione looked around her. She saw the shops beginning to close one after the other. She tried to catch Tom's eyes, but he was too invested in the conversation. The grip she still had on his forearm slightly tightened, but Tom didn't react.

As usual with Tom, the discussion slowly drifted towards politics. The girl by Pax's arm didn't seem interested in the subject and kept looking at her nails. Hermione, on the other hand, got suddenly way more invested in what was being said. Apparently, Pax's father had found him a job at the ministry in his own division, in Law Enforcement. Hermione knew that Balthazar Zabini was working just under Salomon Burnstein, directly answering to the Head of Law Enforcement Justus Pilliwickle.

Pax was talking about how Pilliwickle had stolen Dolohov Senior's job, something Tom couldn't agree more on, about how Tuft had put him at the Head of the department because they were close friends and how Pax's entire family was only waiting for him to die of old age as Justus was ninety-one. They couldn't wait because, with Pilliwickle's death, the Zabini's would go up the ladder of the hierarchy, becoming second in command, just after the Burnsteins. However, just as Pax was explaining to Tom, Pilliwickle was in really good health, actually he was meeting with healers at St Mungo's every two weeks to check if everything was fine.

"I'm starving !" The blond complained. She was slightly pulling at Pax's sleeve which made him laugh.

"I guess we have to go." Zabini said. "I'll be waiting for your next letter, Tom." He then looked at Hermione and slightly bowed, "Grace." The couple left.

Hermione finally let go of Tom's arm and spun on her heels so they would face each other. "Anything I need to know ?" She asked him.

"Only boys things." He answered. She didn't believe him.

She took one last look at the shops and sighed as she saw they were all closed. "Well, _Flourish and Blott_ s is closed, now." She stated, "if we hurry we may reach _Books among other things._ It might still be open to buying your book." Hermione was ready to hurry but Tom didn't move. She shot him an interrogating glance and he smirked.

"Who said anything about buying ?" He cocked his head to the left.

"Please tell me we're going to buy this book."

"Come on Grace, where is the fun in that ?"

Tom took out a small watch from his inside pocket to check the time. "We have twenty minutes to spare."

Tom put his hand on her lower back, a simple gesture Hermione had gotten used to in the last months, and they began slowly walking through the streets. Hermione's eyes were jumping from one couple to the other, smiling and laughing.

"Why are we dressed like that if we're only going to steal a book ?" She wondered out loud. Tom slightly leaned towards her and she almost shivered at the feeling on his lips ghosting over her left ear. "For the act, love." He whispered.

Hermione looked at how they were dressed, and Tom was right, they were alarmingly fitting the atmosphere.

The walk, through Diagon Alley, was nice, it was not that cold for a fourteenth of February, the sky above their heads was clear, the rain - or even snow - wouldn't ruin the night. The streets were getting busier by the minutes. Tom and Hermione had to avoid bumping into some other couples as the street slightly narrowed. Tom's hand on her back brought her closer to his body to let a gentleman walk past them. Hermione suddenly felt Tom's grip tightening. She looked up to him and noticed he was staring at something ahead of them. She followed with her eyes to where he was looking and saw Mister Wink, their charm professor, a few meters away. She briefly looked around them and understood that there was no way out, the street was too narrow and packed for them to avoid the teacher.

Tom, with some difficulty, guided them to the nearest wall, where he gently pushed her against. He first looked upon his shoulder, then Hermione felt his hand slowly climbing its way to reach the nape of her neck. Tom cradled her face, his thumb on her jaw, and tilted her head backward. He just leaned down and they waited in this position.

As Tom towered over her, his body pressed against hers, no one could recognize them. They would simply think they were a couple kissing. If Hermione were completely honest, the situation lingered a bit more than necessary. When Tom finally let go of her, Professor Wink was out of sight.

"Time to steal a book." He murmured, his lips almost touching hers. Tom took her by the hand and they zigzagged through the crowd. Hermione could feel the heat in her cheeks and hoped she'd have the time to get rid of her blush before Tom could see. They took a sharp turn to the right and found themselves in the middle of Knockturn Alley.

"Why doesn't it surprise me ?" She said, deadpanned.

"Because you are starting to get to know me." He smugly replied.

The shift in the atmosphere was almost palpable. There were not as many people as there were in Diagon Alley. As they kept walking, the lights became dimmer and rapidly Hermione missed the warm atmosphere she had enjoyed so much ten minutes ago. The only people they met coming the other way, were almost running not to be seen by anyone. They stood out. _She_ stood out with her fancy dress. She quickly looked at Tom and saw that he was entirely serene, which oddly comforted her.

"That's here." Tom said as he pointed towards the small wooden banner at the end of the street. Hermione could read _B &B_.

"I guess this isn't a bed and breakfast." She tried to joke to hide her discomfort. She felt him lightly laughing as they kept strolling towards Borgin and Burkes. The only thing that wouldn't change in the next fifty years was this shop. It looked exactly the same as she remembered from the time she came with Ron and Harry before their sixth-year.

They stopped in front of the door.

"What is the plan, then ?" She asked.

"Get inside, find the book, get out." Tom simply explained. "We have until midnight before the portkey activates, so we have three and a half hours."

"More than three hours to find a simple book ?" She looked at him but he was simply looking at the door, surely thinking about how they would break-in.

"Haven't I mentioned it ?" Tom smirked. "It is not a simple book. It is not even for sale."

Tom finally let go of her hand and approached the door. He took out a white handkerchief from his pocket and secured it around his left fist. Without any warning, he punched through one of the glass panes on the door. Hermione expected an alarm to resound but nothing happened. Tom had already put the handkerchief back in his coat and had opened the door for her.

"That's your plan ?" She harshly whispered as she arrived at his level. "Breaking and entering ?"

"Well, I have never said my plan would be as intricate as yours."

She rolled her eyes and entered the gloomy shop. Strangely, it reminded her of the room of requirement. Everything was messy, piles of objects in every corner. She recognized, at the far end, the vanishing cabinet, the one she saw the only other time she had stepped foot inside this place. They had to look carefully at what they were stepping on. One of the largest windows allowed the moonlight to illuminate a significant part of the shop, without which they would see even less than what they already did. Hermione approached a large bookshelf and looked at each book individually before turning towards Tom. "What is the name of the book ?"

" _Deus Occulta Mortis_."

It took a minute for Hermione to translate the title. But when she did, she widened her eyes, _The Secrets of Death_. She bit her lip as she remembered what Harry had told her about the cave, about the inferi. Tom was watching her.

"Something to say, Hortense ?" He slowly walked to where she was standing.

"The dead should stay dead." She retorted.

"It only is reading material." He easily lied.

She turned her heels around and kept meandering through the alleys. The next fifteen minutes were spent in silence, the two of them looking for the said book through the mountains the shop had. From the exterior, the shop seemed smaller than what it actually was. There were magical artifacts more improbable than the last at every corner.

At one point, Hermione couldn't hear Tom's footsteps anymore. She walked some more and finally found him looking at a strangely looking hand, at the back of the shop. He was slightly crouching to be at eye-level with the object on the mantlepiece of a large chimney. A small tag was dangling from the artifact with the name _Hand of Glory_ written on it. She stood right behind Tom. "Catchy name." She said.

"I am curious about what it does." He wondered out loud. Hermione knew exactly what the hand did. She took one of the candles laying on a large wooden table with one hand and nicked Tom's lighter from his pocket with the other one. Tom was looking at her as she lit up the candle and took the Hand of Glory by the base.

The hand tightly closed around the candle and Hermione could finally see the shop under a flashing light. It seemed so different, less frightening. Tom was frowning in front of her. Of course, he couldn't see the light emanating from the hand as it was for the holder only. Hermione took one of his hands, opened his palm, and placed the hand in his. From the moment she let go of the artifact, darkness came crashing back.

"A thief's best friend." Hermione commented while Tom was looking all around him, brandishing the hand like a torch.

"Clever." He said.

They went back to sauntering around the shop. Hermione found it quite interesting, it was filled with objects she had only heard or read about. She then made her way to a display unit made entirely of glass. She recognized one of the objects presented, one she knew not to touch as it was cursed. She put a hand above, on the thin glass and looked directly at the opal necklace. She could take it so Draco Malfoy would not buy it in sixth-year and Katie Bell would have never touched it.

"Woodcroft has been there." She heard Tom. She tore her eyes away from the necklace and saw him, perched over a large leather book behind the counter. From where she was standing she assumed the book to be the shop's register.

"Pardon ?" She approached.

"He bought a brooch on the 29th of December." Tom softly whistled at the indecent price. "170 galleons."

Hermione froze. She knew the brooch he was talking about. Cole had offered it to her for Christmas on the first day of the term. It represented a snake biting its tail, made entirely of silver except for two small emerald eyes. Tom finally rose his eyes away from the register to look at her. "Why the long face ?"

"Nothing." She cut short and averted her gaze.

"He offered you the brooch, didn't he ?" Tom snorted and she heard him loudly shutting close the register. "170 galleons and he did not even get the girl."

Hermione spun on her heels and took two steps toward him. "Don't even start, Tom." She snapped. "You've been making those little comments for two weeks, I've had my fair share. Enough now."

Tom only rose his hand in surrender and lowered his head to hide his laughter. He had always known which string to pull to rile her up. He enjoyed it. She huffed and walked away. She was deeply breathing to calm herself down when she heard him talk, again. "No way." He was standing a few feet away with a sword in hand. He was already marveling at the weapon. As Hermione got closer, she could get a better look at the sword. Her steps slowed as she identified it. "It's not possible." She whispered to herself.

"The heir of Slytherin flaunting the sword of Gryffindor." Tom said.

Hermione was slowly turning around Tom, her eyes riveted on the weapon. "It's not the real one."

"How would you know ?"

"Look," she showed him a small diamond at the top of the handle with her pinky finger, "there only are rubies on the real sword of Gryffindor."

Tom took one last good look at the sword before putting it on the floor, simply letting it set down against a dark piece of furniture. "You seem to know everything." Hermione didn't even bother replying to his little comment.

"Find the book Tom, so we can get out of here."

Tom, still holding the hand of glory, disappeared in an instant. Hermione was determined to find this book, the more time she spent in this shop, the more uncomfortable she became.

 _Deus Occulta Mortis_

 _Deus Occulta Mortis_

 _Deus Occulta Mortis_

She repeated on loop the name of the book she was looking for in her head as her eyes were skimming through a large bookcase. Her eyes had gotten accustomed to the darkness now, and she realised it was not in there. Hermione opened one of the glass doors of a small cupboard and found herself in front of a dozen of old books.

One of them got her attention. It was a journal, written by no other than Octavius Basilton. Nicolas Flamel had sent her at least two books on time travel written by this wizard. She gently took the book in her hand and opened it. It was handwritten.

 _It must be the only copy_

Hermione quickly made sure Tom was nowhere around before discreetly sliding the book into her purse. Her attention went back to the open cupboard and more specifically to a small wooden box on the middle shelf. She flicked the catch bolt open and a dark smog escaped the small container.

Out of surprise, Hermione fell on the floor, breaking a vase in the process. The smoke slowly turned into the frame of someone she knew better than anyone. Herself. But this Hermione was wearing the old clothes she wore during the Battle of Hogwarts. She was frozen on the ground, looking up at who she used to be.

"Look at yourself," the other Hermione spat, "look at what you've become."

She couldn't move, she was petrified. Her heart was almost beating out of her chest.

"All dolled up for _him._ " The boggart continued. "How can you even look at yourself in the mirror ? You're just like him." It kept walking towards where Hermione was frozen on the ground. "No, you're worse, because _you_ know what he will do."

Hermione put all the force she had into crawling back but the boggart in the shape of herself kept advancing, like a beast towards its prey. This Hermione's wand fell from its holster right into her palm, it got Hermione's attention. She then noticed the blood on its left forearm. The blood in which was written the word _mudblood_. Panic finally washed over her. She knew the spell to make the boggart disappear, she knew the wand movement, yet she couldn't grab her wand, she couldn't talk. She just kept crawling back and back until her back hit a hard surface. She quickly rose her eyes and saw the display stand against which Tom had laid the fake sword of Gryffindor ten minutes ago.

"They're all dead." The boggart said in a low voice. "They're all dead because of you." Out of the corner of her right eye, Hermione saw Tom's shadow. She briefly wondered how long he had been standing there. She knew he couldn't help her, he couldn't use magic. "They're all dead because you've abandoned them." She couldn't hold the tears back. Entirely defenseless, Hermione began crying.

Then, out of nowhere, the boggart turned back into a black mist before being hoovered by the wooden box in the cupboard. Hermione saw Tom, looking above her, as if scared. Hermione was too shaken up to question how the boggart disappeared. Her gaze dropped back to the floor and she focused on her heartbeat, still frantic.

"Grace…" Tom said in a low voice. She looked up to him and noticed his eyes were still stuck on something behind her. Tom slowly reached her and grabbed her by the wrist to pull her up to her feet.

She finally turned around and understood why Tom had looked this scared.

"You filthy thieves !" Caractarus Burkes was standing in front of them, wand at the ready. The wizard was as much imposing by his height as by his shoulder breadth. His greasy grey hair was reaching his collarbone. The moonlight was casting a frightening shadow on his face. Tom and Hermione took one step back as the shop owner took one further.

For the second time tonight, her heart nearly stopped. She felt the sharpness of the adrenaline pulsing through her veins. Tom's eyes were going back and forth between the shop owner and the door behind the latter.

"Don't you even think about it, you worthless scum. I've already called the aurors." Burkes growled as he took another step closer. Tom slowly pushed Hermione to the side to remain the only one standing in front of Caractarus Burkes.

"This book isn't for sale, boy." He eyed at the book Tom had in his hand. Tom's free hand slowly left hers to disappear behind his back. Hermione's eyes followed his movement.

"What-" She whispered to him.

"Don't move." Tom cut her off whispering his eyes not leaving Caractarus for a second.

She felt something splashing her face. Instinctively she closed her eyes to shield them from what was being spurted out. When she reopened them, the first thing she saw was the blood on her hands. She began to shake at the sight. Then, she noticed the blood on her dress, on her shoes. Her entire body shuddered as she couldn't understand what was happening. Her gaze slowly moved away from her bloodied hands to fall on Caractarus Burkes, still standing in front of Tom. He had his throat slit open and a river of blood was pouring out of the gash. The old wizard was loudly choking on it. His eyes were terrified as they were slowly losing all life. He coughed a few times and more blood splashed on her face. If she weren't under shock, Hermione would have probably cried at the sight, it was terrifying, so sudden.

She felt as if everything around her was in slow motion. She first saw the lifeless body of Caractarus hitting the floor, she then turned her head to the left and saw Tom, his right leg forward and both of his hands tightly gripping at the fake sword of Gryffindor. He was entirely covered in blood. He, too, turned his head towards her and they just stared for a second until realisation was drawn upon her. Time stilled, Tom and Hermione unable to take their eyes away from each other, both coated with blood. The only noise at this moment was their ragged breath. Hermione's eyes landed back on Caractarus and let out a whimper.

In a matter of seconds, Tom had dropped the sword to the floor and crossed the few feet separating them.

"Grace-" He tried to touch her but she stumbled back.

"What have you done ?" She whispered, her eyes open wide, frantically going back and forth between the corpse and Tom's bloodied face.

"Grace you ne-"

"What have you done ?" She repeated louder this time. Tom pressed his forefinger against her lips to shut her up. Hermione took a good look at his face and noticed he was as panicked as she was.

Her entire body was shaking. "Shhh, it is alright." He tried to soothe her as much as he could. He cradled her face with his hands. "Get yourself together." He kept repeating.

"What have you done ?" She couldn't say anything else. They both turned their heads toward the door as they heard noises coming closer. Tom forced her to look back into his eyes.

"Grace, I need you to calm down." He lightly shook her. "I need your brain. I need you to get us out of here."

Everything was spinning around her, her eyes roamed around the room until she found the only way out. With a trembling hand, she took his. The aurors were getting closer and closer to the shop. She opened the door, pushed Tom inside, and jumped right after him. The moment she closed the vanishing cabinet's door, the aurors had entered the crime scene.

It was her turn to put her forefinger on his mouth, silently asking him not to make any sound. They were so close inside the cabinet that almost every part of their bodies was touching. Her heart was so frantically beating she was sure Tom could hear it. Her other hand was slowly reaching for the handle.

"Somewhere safe, somewhere safe, somewhere safe." She pleaded in a small voice. She gripped the handle and turned it.

The door creaked open and she entered the Weasley's living room. Tom was the first one to step out of the cabinet, he was looking around him, taking in the sight of the place. Hermione, on the other hand, couldn't get out. She was frozen, her eyes glimmering with tears. Her legs began to shake as she set foot inside the living room. Everything was still the same, yet it was so different. First, it was silent. The Burrow was never silent. Then, the furniture, they were all a little off, like a pale copy of what they really were.

"Where are we ?" Tom asked.

Hermione's eyes were stuck on the sofa, on which she had sat hundreds of times with Harry and Ron.

"I have no idea." She lied.

Of course, she knew. She had asked the room for something safe and of course, it had given her this. The moment she saw the vanishing cabinet at Borgin and Burkes, she directly thought about Draco Malfoy and his plan to get Death Eaters inside Hogwarts. She realised then that the vanishing cabinet twin was at Hogwarts, in the room of requirement. More importantly, it was still working. It would only be broken by Peeves in 1992 when dropped to save Harry from Filch.

So of course she knew where they were because she had brought them here on purpose.

"How did we get here ?" Tom asked her as he dropped the book he had stolen on the coffee table.

"Vanishing cabinet." She explained, her voice still shaken up. "You enter one, you exit where the twin is." On top of feeling ghastly by what had just happened, she couldn't look around herself. She had made sure to never ask the room of requirement for this place. She knew she couldn't handle it. But in the heat of the moment and the panic crushing her brain, it was the only safe place she could think of.

"You're a genius." He whispered to himself but Hermione heard.

Tom was slowly walking around the room. "It seems to be uninhabited."

Hermione hated seeing him there, strolling all bloodied around the house, not understanding what all of this meant.

"Why did you do that ?" She barked, anger finally replacing panic. Tom spun around.

"What else could I have done ?" Tom also rose his voice. "We were stuck ! The aurors were coming, we could not use any magic. What _else_ could I have done ?"

"Murder isn't always the solution !"

He pressed the heels of his hands on his eyes and stayed that way for a good minute before he burst out laughing, like a mad man. He was standing straight in the middle of the living room, just in front of the door leading to the kitchen. The white of his shirt had turned red from the blood and his suit was entirely wrinkled. Hermione didn't know how to react in front of the scene, everything seemed so unreal.

"You're insane." She said in disbelief.

"We fucking made it out." He laughed even harder and finally dropped his hands to look at her. The huge grin on his face was contrasting with the blood he was covered in. The blood they were both covered in.

"You're crazy." She took a step back. "You've just killed someone."

"Well, it is not the first time. Neither for you nor me."

Hermione shook her head no. Tom didn't understand that what she had done in the past had nothing to do with what he had just done.

"Come on Grace, killing is killing." He added as he saw the disgusted look she had on her face.

He kept laughing and laughing. He left the room and Hermione ran to follow him. He had reached the kitchen and was opening the cupboards, apparently in the search of something. He had no care for the blood he was leaving everywhere.

"What are you doing ?" She asked him in frustration.

"I want to make myself some tea." He said like it was the most evident thing, like they hadn't just killed someone five minutes before.

She began to struggle with the amount of anger in her system at this moment. Seeing him inside the Weasley's kitchen, laughing hysterically, tainting this sacred place with the blood of their murder. It was all too much.

"Stop it !" She yelled. Tom stopped in his tracks and looked at her. "Stop it !" She repeated. In two large steps, he had his hands cradling her face.

"Don't you see ?" She had never seen him smile this much. "Don't you see, Grace ?" He was as overwrought as she was, except he was expressing it differently. "We're unstoppable. You and I, we can do anything we want." He didn't wait for an answer from her that he crashed his lips with hers. Hermione only waited for her brain to realise what was happening before she violently pushed him away.

"What is wrong with you ?" She shouted.

"Well, isn't it what we do ?" He yelled back, obviously angry by the rejection. Hermione frowned not fully understanding so he explained. "Isn't it what we have been doing for the past two weeks ? Fighting then kissing ?"

Hermione hid behind her hands. She didn't want to hear that because as long as they never talked about it, it was never real.

"When will you stop lying to yourself ? You are as much involved in _whatever this is_ as I am." Tom finished.

He was not simply referencing their "relationship", Tom was talking about _everything,_ the lads, the meeting, the politics, the plans, the scheming, the killing apparently. She took a few steps backward and Tom matched her steps as he strutted forward.

"Stay where you are." She growled. He didn't, he kept slowly approaching.

"Come on Grace, he was of no interest."

"So because he was of no interest, he was worth killing ?" She yelled.

"Since when is killing a problem for you ?" He yelled back.

A silence followed Tom's loud shout. Hermione didn't know what to say, she was slowly losing herself, becoming someone she wasn't. She wasn't Grace, she was only acting like Grace. But now that she was thinking about it she was slowly turning into her.

"So destroying a man's life, helping me cover for Warren's murder, almost fucking up Dolohov's mind is alright with you ? But killing a man we do not know, do not care about out of necessity, is where you draw the line ?" Tom darkly laughed. "How far would you be willing to go then, Grace ?"

"W-well that's not the point." She barked. "Where is the limit, Tom, if killing an innocent man isn't it ?"

"That is what you do not understand yet, Grace. Nothing is off-limits." He replied, still taking a step forward.

"Stay where you are, Tom." She said, no longer yelling. Surprisingly, he obeyed. She took one look at him before running up the stairs and stumbling into the bathroom.

She saw herself for the first time since it happened in the mirror. She saw the imprints of Tom's hands on her cheeks, where the blood had not yet dried. She was in front of a nightmarish sight. Hermione suddenly felt her legs giving away, she grabbed hold of the sink and used all the strength left in her body to remain standing. She closed her eyes and focused on calming down, stabilizing her breathing. She stayed in this position for god knows how long before she felt like she could open her eyes again.

The first thing she saw was her hands covered in blood, contrasting with the white of the sink. She then looked right at the mirror, she didn't only see herself. She also saw Tom in the background, leaning against the doorframe. The blood on his face had almost disappeared. He must have washed it away, down in the kitchen. He was looking into her eyes through the mirror. They kept staring at each other for a few seconds before Hermione opened the tab and put her hands underneath the water. She was focusing on getting rid of all of the red. The silence was almost complete if it wasn't for the water hitting the porcelain.

"I am sorry about your dress." He said. His voice was incredibly soft and it made Hermione shiver. She didn't answer, she didn't even look at him. She began trying to get rid of the blood on her face. She was getting frustrated by the minute, it was almost impossible to wash it away with only her hands. Hermione let her hands fall back to the edge of the sink and loudly exhaled. Her gaze was stuck on the sink slowly draining the reddish water away.

"Let me do it."

She rose her head and saw him taking out the same handkerchief he had used to break into the store. He didn't move forward, he waited for her permission. She silently gave it to him as she turned around, leaned against the sink, and tilted her head upward to look into his eyes. With his right hand, he gently cupped her cheek and with his left, he wet the cloth before tenderly pressing it to her skin.

He began with her cheeks, slowly and carefully washing the blood away. Once done, he brushed his lips against the apple of both of her cheeks. Then, he moved up to her forehead, kissed it too, and let his lips follow the line of her nose. He then delicately wiped the red from her eyes before grazing his mouth against her eye-lids. Then, she felt his hesitation. He was looking at her lips. He lightly caressed her lower lip with his thumb underneath the handkerchief, his eyes captivated by the movement. She was feeling his finger dragging against the plumb there. She couldn't not look at him at this moment.

He was beautiful. She had felt softness in the past, but never like this and what surprised her most was that it was coming from Tom. Hermione wasn't sure she understood what was happening at this moment. How, in the last twenty minutes, had they been able to go through this much different emotions ? How could they stand, inches away from each other, sharing one of the most delicate moments she had ever experienced when they were still covered in the blood of the man they had just killed ? How could Hermione not feel sick at the thought ?

Slowly and deliberately, Hermione pushed herself on the tip of her toes and leaned. She brushed her lips with his.

"There was no other way." He whispered against her. They were both slightly moving their head to feel the caress of their lips against each other. "I only did it for us." He kept murmuring. "For you."

She knew he was lying but it didn't stop her from kissing him.

She only needed to feel the warmth of another body. She only needed the reassurance she wasn't alone in this situation. Tom was there so she clutched at him. All the softness she had previously experienced slowly faded away and let the room to intense desire. Tom let the cloth fall onto the ground and put both of his hands in her hair. She settled hers on the back of his neck and slightly pressed her nails on the skin there. He growled in her mouth, tightened the grip on her hair and tilted her head even more backward.

Hermione couldn't put herself more on her tiptoes as she currently was and Tom must have sensed her need to be even closer. Hermione felt two large hands grabbing the back of her thighs, lifting her until she sat on the sink. Tom settled between them and Hermione arched her back. His lips gradually drifted to her jaw then her neck. He kept intensely pressing his mouth to the sensitive skin. Hermione tilted her head to the side, giving him better access. His kisses slowly began to feel more and more foreign until she couldn't feel them anymore. She lowered her head and saw him staring at her, a smirk on his face.

"Shut up." She dryly said.

"I did not say anything." He smugly answered.

Hermione pulled him by his tie and crashed their lips together once more.

OoOoOo

15.02.1944 :

She took a sip of her tea. It was getting cold but she really didn't mind. She had hesitated with getting a cup of coffee, she was quite tired. They had come back to Hogwarts around 1:30AM. They hadn't talked after they had kissed. They had gone back inside the vanishing cabinet at 11:55PM, waited five minutes in there, before using the portkey to go back to Hogsmeade.

Hermione couldn't have told him they currently were inside Hogwarts, Tom couldn't know about the Room of Requirement. She had convinced him to go back inside the vanishing cabinet before using the portkey.

When they had arrived in the common room, they had stared at each other before Tom had spoken up. "I will see you in the morning." He had simply said before climbing up the stairs to reach his dorm. She had simply watched him leave.

Across from her, casually sipping his morning coffee, was Tom. He was reading the _Daily Prophet_. Hermione's eyes lingered on its headline : **MANSLAUGHTER : BREAKING & ENTERING TURNED WRONG IN KNOCKTURN ALLEY. **

There was chatter around them, however, it felt as if they were in a small bubble and everything around them was a blur. This broke when Abraxas cleared his throat. "By the way, what did the two of you do last night ? You just disappeared on us."

Hermione's eyes met Tom's.

"Nothing much." The prefect replied nonchalantly.

They both took their beverage and drank as they looked at each other, no emotion showing on their faces.

* * *

 **Authors' Note :** **This chapter was so fun to write. We hope you've enjoyed it as much as we've enjoyed writing it.**

 **We have finished chp 22 first draft - we're gonna keep working on it in around 15days in the hope of uploading it soon**

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